


Special!: Life in Snippets

by DevinTowerwood



Series: Life in Snippets [5]
Category: Life Is Strange
Genre: Afterlife, F/F, Multi, Polyamory, bigender!Chloe, trans!Victoria - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-25
Updated: 2016-07-17
Packaged: 2018-04-23 06:53:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4867286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DevinTowerwood/pseuds/DevinTowerwood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Separate from the primary story of Life in Snippets, Specials! focus on moments that were not present, or only implicitly present, in Life in Snippets. It is intended to be read in between parts of Life in Snippets, as will be marked in the summary of each piece.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. How it Happened

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Before the events of Life in Snippets, Victoria Chase is very nervous about asking out Maxine Caulfield.

Victoria flipped through the photos on her phone. The vast majority were absolute trash, to be perfectly honest - blurry shots taken while drunk at the Vortex Club Party two days ago.  But there was something pretty consistent that she noticed through them - she’d spent a lot of that night with Maxine Caulfield.

The two of them had gotten pretty close pretty fast after the year started, following each other on social media and chatting online after Lights Out in the dorms about every other night. They had even gone on a scenery hike for nature shots and gotten stoned together for the first time last weekend.

Still, it was getting pretty hard to ignore - Victoria really liked Maxine. Not just because of how similar they were - both gravitating here for the mentorship of Mark Jefferson, both fans both of overly artsy foreign films as well as classic and postmodern science fiction, both really fucking adorable lesbians . . . but there was a dialectic in them that somehow kept Victoria interested. They seemed to disagree so drastically despite similar interests, especially about the photography industry, and, seemingly, industry as a topic. While Victoria’s whole life had been submerged in the arts and the arts industry, attending her first play in a tiny suit and tie at the age of 6 for a showing of Matilda, Maxine had an amateur's naive but ultimately admirable concept of the art world. Victoria’s family’s money came largely from her dad’s involvement in copyright writing and subsequent lawsuits, but Max continuously held that art was, and always should be, a tool ultimately for the benefit of the masses, that to restrict it was to defy the very soul of art itself, to strip it of meaning, to commodify it into a sensual experience instead of a holistically artistic one.

She talked like that about art, about photography, about music. Cynicism just seemed to escape her, and Victoria admired that. Apparently, her drunk self admired it even more, as she had nearly 120 selfies with Max from that night alone. They were garbage, but they pulled at her heart strings.

Finally, Victoria knew what she was feeling, and knew what she wanted. And she was somebody who got what she wanted. She put her phone away, then took a few seconds to comb her hair with her fingers, making sure it was lying flat. She left her room, crossed the hall, heard the strumming of yet another Syd Matters song, took a deep breath, and knocked on the door.

The music stopped, and there was a bit of shuffling before Maxine Caulfield stood in the doorway, looking up at Victoria with light blue eyes. Victoria could feel herself getting defensive posture as nervousness took hold, so she forced herself to open up, leaning against Max’s doorway with her forearm.  
“Hey there Tori.”  
“Hey Max. I’m going to be  ~~straight~~ , er, direct here. Do you want to go out with me?”  
Max just held her eyes for a moment, but a look of serene pleasure lit Max’s eyes, and she bit her lip. “I don’t know, that depends.” 

Victoria was confused by the contradiction of words and body language, but then she understood, and smiled. Max took that as a good sign and continued: “Do you wanna kiss me? Like, right now?”

Victoria nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, please.”

Max’s lip-biting broke into a full smile, and she took a step forward, wrapping an arm around Victoria’s waist and placing a hand on Victoria’s cheek as she stood on her toes, bringing her lips together with Victoria’s powdery but warm, so warm lips. It was a short kiss, but it filled Victoria with triumph.

Max broke from her, taking a step back into her room. “Come here - close the door.”  
Victoria eagerly obeyed, leaning against the door as it clipped shut. Max was back against her in an instant, wrapping her arms around the tall blonde’s neck while Victoria’s arms wrapped around Max’s waist. As their kiss broke breathlessly apart, Victoria lifted Max up, and stepped forward onto Max’s ridiculous “Keep Calm” rug to start spinning her around. “THANK YOU SO MUCH, MAXINE!!”  
Their spin ended as Max’s legs caught on her bed, and she collapsed into a sitting position on it, Victoria leaning over dramatically with her arms still around the little brunette’s waist.

As she loosened her hold on Max’s waist, she slid her hands up along Max’s sides inside her hoodie, and Max lowered her hands over Victoria’s shoulders in much the same way. She lifted a finger up and tapped Victoria on the tip of her nose. “It’s  _Max_ , never Maxine. And you took so long, you big dork.” Victoria found herself pulled against Max again, melting from a nearly 90 degree angle into their kiss.  
She felt complete.


	2. A Date with Kate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Parallel to Monday Night (Part 1 Chapter 7), Max and Kate drink tea and read books, then spend a moment out in the snow.

Perhaps the best element of Max and Kate’s second tea date was not, in fact, its tea. Or, perhaps it would be better to say, the best part of the tea shoppe itself was not even the tea. Wedged into the corners of the ground floor, bordering the front door, were two alcoves with curtains as well as book shelves built into the wall. The sills that might have originally been designed to show window shoppers an item in a two-story boutique had been repurposed into couches with an array of mismatched pillows and cushions, and many of the books from the shelves lay among them. Velvety curtains separated off this alcove from the ground floor, but Max kept them open so that she could people watch as people entered the store.

Kate sat on a cushion with her feet up, shoes off, as if she were just at home reading some long-awaited novel. Max was across from her but lay on her side, back against the curtained-off window, and with an old copy of Ray Bradbury’s  _October Country_  below her. A central coffee table held both of their teas - Kate’s was mostly ignored, while Max’s was nearly finished. This was a bit peculiar to Max, as tea wasn’t really her favorite thing while Kate seemed to think it in an almost ceremonial context.

While Max was reading the book for the sake of an AP English Q3 practice that was supposed to be due Thursday (but who knew when class would be back on?), she deeply admired Ray Bradbury’s works. She had studied more about him as an author since middle school when she’d read  _Fahrenheit 451_ , fascinated at how he had contested the way in which his own book had been interpreted and was, as she’d seen in class, taught. She’d ultimately learned, or at least wondered at, how art and literature seemed more about the audience who viewed them than the ultimate intention involved in its creation.

Max could only get so deep into the book when there were so many sensory distractions. And while the customers coming in for the tea or the baked goods or the all-donations library on the second floor were interesting, there was only so much variety she could see among them. Instead, despite a lack of activity, Max found herself watching Kate instead, slyly, just lifting her eyes from her book occasionally. Kate’s eyes kept a rapt attention on the book, shifting rapidly from side to side. Her hair had begun to fall from her bun a few strands at a time as she twitched with it every few moments, framing her face with pale-gold pendulums. 

No matter what she did, Kate had a look of serenity and focus that Max only truly recognized as unique to Kate. It was a look of being fully present in one thing, and it was something Kate was remarkable at: on the violin, while drawing, while reading. She was a creature that embodied something Maxine could achieve only in moments. She wasn’t sure why she hadn’t noticed until weeks into school.

“Kate, your tea is going to get cold.”

Kate lifted her eyes, which took a moment to focus, readjusting herself to the world physically present. “Oh! You’re right. Thanks Max.” Despite her seeming thankfulness, she took only a small sip before setting it back down and returning to her book.  
But Max wanted her attention, and she wanted to express what she was thinking. “There’s something special about you, Kate.”

Kate looked up again, perplexed but reasonably intrigued. “Why do you say that?”

Max tried to find the right words. How to say that Kate herself seemed to be art with an elusive meaning, like Mona Lisa or the Pyramid of Cholula - suggesting something more below its surface simply because its surface was so decorated. But, despite that outstanding quality, nearly invisible unless you made a point to look. “I just think you have a harmony I could never have.”

Kate beamed for a quiet moment, and then shook her head. “I’m nothing special, Max. I’m just a girl.”

They held eye contact for a moment while Max found the words. “Maybe you are. But girls are special. And beautiful. And there’s nothing wrong with that.”

Kate just smiled back at her for a long moment while the two of them saw each other. They were not the best at talking to each other, they didn’t know how yet, but there was a mutual admiration that made them both feel valued in each other’s presence, and neither could resent a feeling like that.

Max reached over to her tea to take a sip. Kate looked back down at her book, tucking a stray clump of hair behind her ear.  
As Max lay back, just relaxing, she saw her shadowy reflection in the mirror. She reached up a hand, her palm hovering just off of the glass, watching the reflection and her proximity to it. For a moment, she thought she saw the dark reflection move, its fingers seeming to intertwine with her own and constrict in a fit of passion. She blinked, ridding the glimpse of fancy from her mind. Her relationship with Kate was not one where that sort of fantasy would be wise.

But then, from inside the store, she heard, “Oh my god, is it snowing?”

She sat upright immediately like a classic vampire from its coffin, and Kate turned her head back towards the front counter of the store. Many of the store’s occupants, as well as the tall girl with pulled-back black hair managing the baked goods at the front desk, had stopped to look to the exterior of the store. They were pointing, and many of them were pulling out their phones.

Kate looked to Max and whispered inquisitively, “How could it be snowing?”

Max did not ask, she just swung her legs down to the floor, removed her camera from her messenger bag, and moved onto the ground floor so she could see out the windows. Kate took a moment to slip on her shoes before joining Max.   
“Wowzers . . . it really is snowing. And the sun’s out, even.”

Kate was outside in an instant, and Max followed close behind. The duo stopped to stare up at the burnt-orange sky, few clouds to be found. Nevertheless, a flurry of white powder whipped around the tops of buildings and fell onto people’s cars, melting onto nearly every surface they came into contact with because of the heat.  
“That’s amazing,” Max confirmed, “and really, really weird.” She stepped closer to the edge of the sidewalk and lifted her camera, beginning to take shot after shot.

After a few seconds, Kate was not content to merely observe. She stood on the edge of the sidewalk, and checked on either side of her for any cars that might be moving down this side street in Arcadia Bay. Luckily, she found none, and proceeded to walk right into the one-way street, face upturned to the bright sky and the cold-soft petals of ice.

Max continued to take shots of the snow, but after a moment, Kate’s presence in the street caught her eye. “Kate-” she began, but Kate had lifted her arms and begun to twirl slowly in the street, as if trying to catch as much of the stuff on her body as possible.  
Instead, Max admired the beauty and wonder of the moment, and then lifted her camera, set Kate as the focal point, and begun to document every step of the dirty blonde’s spin.

Perhaps a minute later, Kate, eyes still closed, felt Max’s arms wrap around her, over her shoulders, falling down her body. It occurred to Kate as perhaps too close, too intimate, but she leaned back against Max anyway, just happy for the feeling of safety and closeness that it provided.  
“Thank you for coming with me today, Kate.”  
“Thank you for being my friend, Max.”


	3. The Others

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An alternate view of the events of Part 2 Episode 7: Girls' Night, from the other side of the glass. Chloe sees the other reality.

Max just watched as Maxine began to fall apart on the other end of the glass. It really seemed to hurt her to know what Victoria was. Somehow, she must be close with Victoria in this other world, and Victoria and Kate must be friends as well. Max could not believe that such a world could even exist - and she certainly didn’t see what it could have to do with Chloe being in a wheelchair.

“Yo, Max! Help me get this board up the stairs!”

Max’s head turned towards the open door of the bathroom “Yeah, Chloe, I’ll be right there,” she called, then turned her eyes back to her other, better-dressed self in the mirror, though she had neglected the value of punk rock. She was not ready for the mosh pit of horror that had been the past few days. She was going to need help if she was going to keep anyone safe.  
“Chloe is calling for me - I’ve got to go.” She steeled her gaze, looking her other self right in the eye. “Max, you have got to protect Chloe, okay? More than anything, you have to keep her safe. And find the Dark Room - I think that’s where Rachel is. Nathan is your best lead. And if, like you say, Kate is still alive . . . tell her I’m so sorry. But Chloe and I - we’ll avenge her.”

“Huh? Max?” Chloe popped into the bathroom in response to the conversation, and she must have come into frame for the Maxine on the other side of the mirror, because she gasped and took a step back in shock.

This, as you might imagine, caused Chloe to jump a little too. “Whoah, holy shit, what? That’s a new trick, Max.”  
But that’s when she realized that she didn’t see herself in the mirror, and she frowned, trotting up behind Max and leaning on her shoulder a little.

“Chloe?” The Maxine on the other side asked.  
Chloe’s eyes flicked to the Max she was leaning on. She didn’t say that.

Chloe’s eyes snapped back to the other Maxine. “Shitballs . . . who are you?”

The other max took a step forward, so that she was directly in front of the mirror. This seriously weirded Chloe out, but she didn’t recoil any further.

The Max under her shoulder sighed, and spoke up, “She’s another Max, Che. She’s from a different reality, where I didn’t get the rewind.”

That brings a look of intense concern to the blue-nette’s face. Her free arm lowers to her abdomen. “So . . . I’m like hella dead where you are, right? You never saved me from Nathan?”

Maxine shook her head. “No . . . no, Chloe, I’d never let that happen. You’re just at home, watching TV with Victoria and Kate and William right now.”

Everything about that sentence was way too overwhelming, but Chloe just snapped forward, grabbing the edge of the counter and leaning much too close to the mirror. “Wait, my dad is alive? Kate is alive? We’re all okay?”

“Rachel” Max took a step back from the mirror, worried about where the conversation was going.

Maxine did not look nearly as enthused as Chloe, but she met her eye. She could still do that. “Yeah . . . William is fine, Kate is fine. I heard . . . Kate killed herself there?”

Maxine was clearly not getting the point, so Chloe reinforced. “No, no, you don’t understand - my dad is alive? To this day he’s alive, and we’re living in this house?” Her body seemed to be visibly vibrating.

Maxine nodded repeatedly. “Yeah, he’s fine. Did something happen to him?”

Chloe’s head now swung around to look at her Max. Her voice turned to pleading immediately. “Max, girl, you have got to get me there. I know we still have work to do but . . . I’ve got to see him.”

Max shook her head, but the other two girls stared at her, and she brought her hand up to swipe nervously under her nose. She didn’t want them to understand that she was responsible for this situation. And it wasn’t even really her, exactly, it was one of many Maxes responsible . . . but they would blame her. “I . . . can only rewind, Chloe. I can’t move you between dimensions. I don’t even know how we’re talking to this other Max. I can’t do it.”

Chloe slammed her fist down on the counter as she yelled, “NO! That’s not good enough. We can see it, we must be able to go there. I mean, there’s gotta be a way, right? You’re super max - you’re BOTH super max.”

Something finally seemed to dawn on the Max on the other side, for instead of just confusion and pain, some eureka seemed to appear for her. “What is it, Max?” asked Max.

She was nodding to herself for a moment, but then Maxine said, “You . . . you can rewind time, right? And I can see across realities. I’m the one doing this. Maybe if you show me how, I can try and use this to actually . . . converge realities.”

That sounded like a really fucking terrible idea. But at the same time . . . who knows what sort of resource it could be like if two Maxes worked together. Max was quiet for a long moment while she considered things, though she made sure to keep an eye on the other Max, lest she disappear.  
Max started to explain slowly . . . “With my right hand . . . I grasp time. I can feel it, and my fingers fight grooves in it. I pull it. I force it backwards. And it hurts, like lifting something heavy that you can’t let go of. Try . . . try something like that, I guess.”

The more fashionable Max nodded to herself for a long moment, and Chloe looked at her expectantly for a long moment.   
“Chloe, raise your hand up to the glass,” the other Max requested, and tall punk quickly complied.

Other Max took a deep breath, in and out, and then, quietly, quietly, she said, “I can . . . feel you, Chloe.” She started to cry again, but then, she grasped her way into the mirror, and Max could see her fingers entwine with Chloe’s.

With a huge surge of force, Max found herself thrown back, like the time she first rewind. And when she landed, she found herself standing at the mirror, her fingers flat against the surface, and she was wearing different clothes. No Chloe was next to her.  
“Oh my lord . . . what did you do, Max?”

* * *

 

Max crept her way downstairs, and was immediately struck by the different arrangement of furniture in the living room. Perhaps it was a lame first thing to notice, but it was so different that it was sort of overwhelming. Things were cleaner, neater, and they smelled better.

Then, she saw them all. Kate, her hair down, with Victoria’s fingers deep in her little mane, scratching her scalp. Victoria leaned forward and Kate leaned against her, and it was clear that this action was easy, thoughtless, and comforting. They really were close. How . . . absurd.  
And then Max noticed the last thing, the most important thing. Chloe. Her hair was still a light brown. And she sat upright in a wheel chair, a breathing tube directed into her trachea. Panic covered her face, but she was silent and unmoving. Of course she was. She was paralyzed. To move from a full control of your bodies to nearly nothing outside of your head in an instant . . . it had to be terrifying.

The only thing that seemed to diminish this fear was when she saw Max, and Max pointed to herself and mouthed, “It’s me.” Her eyes were still wide and shocked, but she made a weak sort of nod in response. They were here together - whatever Max and Chloe regularly occupied these bodies, they were somewhere else.

Max approached Kate and Victoria first, and looked down at them. When she lingered for a moment, Victoria turned her head towards her, looked up, and smiled, her hand pausing on Kate’s scalp. Her green eyes met Max’s with a warmth that the brunette had no idea how to identify - it was certainly a look she’d never given her before.

“Hey, babe,” she said softly, and the words had a strange savor to them. Max’s ever-parted lips came apart even more in shock, but nothing like what happened to Chloe’s face, as her eyes darted between the members of the trio, as she realized what she was seeing.

Oh my god. _Oh my god._ Victoria was her girlfriend. And it looked like Kate might be her girlfriend. Oh my god. No fucking way. But it was clear from Chloe’s look that she had pretty much come to the same conclusion.

* * *

 

Being the little shit that she was, Chloe got distracted, and she cleared her throat. She seemed uneasy when she heard how raspy her voice was, but still the words came: “So, um, Vicky, Vicky, Icky Vicky - how did you and Max here get together?”

Victoria’s eyes lowered a little, and the hand in Kate’s hair came up and tucked her hair behind her ear, as if she was a little embarrassed, although at the question or . . . what was unclear.  
“We, uh, met in Mr. Jefferson’s photography class. And we went to parties and stuff together. So I asked her out. It’s only been a few weeks, really.”

Chloe’s eyebrows raised. Max went to parties. Got asked out by the most popular girl at school. She was some sort of player in this reality. Mother of fuck that was awesome. Too be honest, she just looked more like a stuck up bitch in this reality, but, hey, that seemed to be getting her eaten out by other tall lesbians . . . and maybe short ones? instead of trying to pull girls off of roofs, so, hey, go her.

Even though Victoria had said little, Chloe chuckled a little . . . it was hard, and uncomfortable, and sounded a little wheezy. Still, she said, “That’s hella fucking awesome.”

A pause occurred in something behind her, and she just now realized there had been an ambient sound of somebody writing and shuffling papers. And then, a voice from the past hit her like a fist to the gut. “Chloe, come on, that’s hardly appropriate when your friends are over.”  
She might have turned red were that an option, but instead she just tried to look behind her. She didn’t have that sort of flexibility. Max moved to her quickly, and showed her the little analog stick she could maneuver with her barely-functioning fingers.  
Chloe nodded, and backed up her chair, turning it slowly until he came into view.

Dad. Dad was here. He sat at the table, sorting through a huge pile of papers, a tray of lasagna sitting in the center, with several plates of drying cheese and pasta sauce scattered on it or the kitchen counter. “Dad?” She asked softly, and then as loudly as she could: “Dad!”

Kate paused the movie, figuring something was wrong, but it was sort of hard to tell.

He looked up from his papers: “Is something wrong, Chloe?”  
She shook her head. “No, no, I’m just really happy to see you. I mean . . . how are you doing?”

He chuckled for a moment, but then noticed the seriousness in her voice. “I’m . . . fine, Chloe. Just handling a few bills.”  
It was not just a few. It looked like he’d been at it for hours. And Chloe had no idea how to handle any of this, especially under the foreign circumstances. So she just started to try and make small talk.  
“How’s, um, mom? She still at Two Whales this late?”

His lips turned into a frown. “No, her shift there ends at 4 . . . she’s at Pan Estates. Are you feeling all right?”   
Considering the paralysis, she would have to say she was doing fine. In fact, she got the distinct impression that she was high, because she was feeling detachment even from the parts of her body that she could move, and all of her senses felt pretty dull, especially her hearing.

“Yeah . . . yeah dad. I’m okay. Everything’s okay.”

* * *

 

Meanwhile, Max had dropped to her knees to sit beside Kate, who looked back at her with warm, relaxed, lovely eyes. There was something strange in them. Or maybe it was something that was missing from them. The fear, maybe? Something was different, and it was beautiful.  
“Kate, can I hug you?”  
“What? Of course, Max.”   
And Max leaned forward, wrapping her arms around Kate’s shoulders, and bringing her close. She could smell her hair, like dust and lavender, and feel her arms warm around her. This was not a girl filled with anxiety and pain. This wasn’t even the girl she had met at the beginning of the year - she seemed older, somehow.

And Max was crying. “God, Kate, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. Will you ever forgive me?”

Kate pulled away from Max a little, their faces close, but her eyes wondering into Max’s own, whose vision kept blurring. Victoria looked down at them strangely, no idea of the interaction right now.

“What for, Max? You’ve done nothing wrong.” She sounded so uncertain, so afraid that something might suddenly jump out and ruin their friendship. But there was nothing - Max just felt against her chest, hugging her even tighter.

“I couldn’t save you.”

Now it was Kate’s hands in her hair, petting her gently. “You did, Max. You saved me. And I’m so thankful.”

Victoria’s hand renewed itself in the chain, petting Kate’s hair. “You’re acting super weird right now, sweetie . . . did you see something in your camera again?” Victoria was speaking very softly, so that neither Chloe nor William would hear.

Max paused for a moment, but then she nodded against Kate’s collar. “I saw something horrible. But it’s okay. It didn’t happen.” Tear stains appeared on Kate’s shirt, but she didn’t seem to mind - she just held Max close

* * *

 

Max walked back up the stairs when she needed to flee the situation. She breathed deeply as she tried to control her tears, and took a moment to clean up. Chloe deserved a bit longer with her dad.  
Eventually, though, she started to feel the discomfort of her clothes. Of the knowledge that she was in someone else’s skin. It felt just like hers, but it did not belong to her.

She looked up at the mirror, and only saw herself. When she spoke, it said the words right back, “How could you ever tell her what you’ve done?”  
She reached out to herself, placing her palm on the mirror just like the other one, the one she was now, had done. She breathed deep.  
She rewound.

Max reappeared in the bathroom. It was just her, in Rachel’s plaid shirt, staring at herself in Rachel’s plaid shirt, her palm against the glass. Somewhere, as if behind the glass, she could hear someone crying, but she couldn’t see her anymore. Her connection to the Max beyond the glass was broken.

“Max! Max, that was real, right!?” Running came from the bottom of the stairs, and a moment later, Chloe appeared beside her in the bathroom. She looked exceptionally startled.

Max nodded. “Yeah, it was all real. Just not our reality.”

Chloe grabbed Max’s arms, hands big enough to wrap around her biceps and triceps easily. Her grip was tight. “Max . . . but . . . why did we come back? That world was . . .”

Max shook her head. “It wasn’t ours.”  
Chloe, despite being so close to Max, stared down at the ground as well as was possible in the situation. Her voice came quietly, but so close to Max she could still hear how full it was. “I. My dad is there. My mom. You - your friends. Everything is okay.”

Max wrapped her arms around Chloe’s waist, but held her loosely. “We can’t go back, Chloe. You’re going to die in that wheelchair.”

She could feel the ragged breathing, the tears on her neck before anything else. Before Chloe removed her arms from the hug, and they fell onto Max’s shoulders, and they pushed her away.  
Chloe had never pushed her like that. She was never forceful with Max. But this was aggressive.  
Her breathing, her tears: this was all anger. “So let me die! I want my family back. I don’t care if it’s only for a few months, or what the fuck ever. Take me back, Max.”

Max could not believe what she was hearing. “But, Chloe, we still have to find Rachel. We’ve got to stop the storm. And I can’t just let you . . . die.”

Chloe was back to quiet. She leaned in towards Max as she took a step, coming eye to eye with her. “Then fuck you, Max. Fuck you for keeping me from my family.”

Chloe turned to walk down the stairs.

“They’re not even our bodies to keep!” called Max. But Chloe did not care.

“No . . .” murmured Max, as she took a few steps to pursue, but it didn’t mean anything. Chloe opened the door and stepped outside, the door slamming shut an instant later.

She shook her head. “No.” She lifted her hand up, and with only the briefest instant of hesitation . . . she turned back time.

It was no ordinary rewind. She was unthreading the binding of these two universes, forcing them apart where the other Max had pushed them together.  She felt herself being unwound, as if the chemical and physical bonds that made her something, anything at all were being shattered, like she would turn into nothing more than a ghost of herself, nothing, just suspended through this suck in time.

But it didn’t happen. Pain ripped into her brain, and as she came to at the top of the stairs, blood dripped from her nose onto her lips, onto her fingers.

“Max! Max, are you okay?” Chloe ran up the stairs, wrapping an arm around Max’s shoulders as she pulled her weight onto herself.  
Max’s eyes were enormously unfocused, but she could see, she could feel Chloe’s concern for her. When she held her close, it was not pleading, she just wanted Max to be okay. They had been fighting hours earlier, seconds earlier, but now Chloe was here for her.

Max knew, as Chloe held her, that she was a traitor. She betrayed Chloe again and again. She didn’t know how to stop. But Chloe still loved her . . . but was that even her choice? Could Chloe ever love her with what she’d done?

As Max slipped into unconsciousness, that question was not resolved. How could Chloe ever love her after what she’d done? How could she stop?  
Was Max . . . even worth loving?


	4. Kate Marsh

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happened to Kate Marsh during the events of Thank You? (Part 3, Chapter 7)? And what is the fate of Kate from the Original Universe, the one mentioned by the Other Max? Together, these two peer into what could have been, and resolve their fates.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW Suicide

“I don’t believe in justice, Max. I don’t believe in anything anymore...”

That wasn’t true. There was one thing that resounded in Kate’s heart. She believed that she could not be loved. That she, fundamentally, could not be forgiven, that nobody could see her as anything valuable, that she really had no value. Kate Marsh believed that she was nothing. There is no justice.

Max took a step forward. She would pull her down. She couldn’t. She couldn’t! To stop now would be to collapse in on herself. It would be to trust where there could be no trust.   
As Kate turned, she extended out her hand, and waved Max away. _Don’t look,_  she thought.  _It’ll be over soon._

For a moment, falling felt like flying. And then, her neck snapped on the pavement outside of Blackwell’s Girls’ Dormitory.

* * *

 

Her eyes would not seem to come into focus. But she could feel her legs moving under her. Very little could she actually feel, but she could feel her legs moving under her. There was very little weight in the steps, though - instead, Kate became aware that she was being supported from all over - her arms were hoisted over someone’s shoulders, and there was an arm around her waist. She was in a parking lot, she was pretty sure. Maybe? The Blackwell parking lot? There was a lot of black and shapes.  
“Don’t worry, Kate, we’ll get you back to your dorm. You’re okay.” Max? Was that Max’s voice? It was . . . reassuring. Was she alive? Her neck didn’t feel broken. Why would her neck be broken? She was at a party, wasn’t she? What happened?

* * *

 

Kate awoke, drowning in her own blood. Her hand shot to her throat, as if she could force oxygen into it, as if she could stop the bleeding. But, as air filled her lungs, she realized she was not drowning. She was not bleeding. She was in her bed, in her pajamas. Dozed off in her chair, rather close to her bed, was Victoria Chase, leaning against her own palm, eyes closed and fully dressed to party (or, you know, be alive), a cashmere sweater sweater over a simple collared shirt, a row of pearls bringing a graceful femininity to the formal dress. On the floor next to her, Max Caulfield breathed heavily through her mouth, deep in sleep, a blanket from her own room partially covering her - although she seemed to prefer to have her arms out of the blanket. She, unlike Victoria, was also dressed in her pajamas.

Kate didn’t make any sound, but Victoria’s eyes fluttered open a moment later in response to Kate sitting up. A smile crossed her lips.

“You’re awake,” Victoria said, and adjusted herself in her seat slightly. Her lipstick was askew on her face, and Kate realized that she had slept with a face full of makeup on. That’s when Kate realized that she had seen Victoria just the night before, dressed exactly like so. She had been up all night.

“What? Huh? Victoria, what are you and Max doing in my bedroom?”   
Max just kept snoozing. Victoria ruffled her own hair a little bit, trying to tame the mess.

“We had to make sure you were safe. We think somebody dosed you last night - you were acting really weird. Do you remember?” Victoria talked quietly, so as not to bother Max.

Kate shook her head, unable to get the imagery from her imagination out of her mind. She must have had one of those dreams where you are in mortal danger, and you wake up the instant before you die, because you have no idea what dying feels like.  
Kate pulled her blanket onto her tighter. She felt like she  _did_  know what it was like to die.  
“No . . . I mean. I think I remember going to the party? Hayden made sure I got into the VIP section but I don’t really . . . remember anything beyond that. It was sort of intense back there.” Somehow, Kate had not been previously aware that she had a horrible headache. She slumped back down to her bed.

“Well, we had to make sure you were safe.” Victoria sounded awfully relieved, but she made no immediate gesture to leave. She exhaled a little. “Well, I guess . . . I guess I should say  _Max_  made sure you were safe. I didn’t even realize something was wrong, but she insisted we get you out of there last night.”

“Mmm.” Kate just wanted her newfound, splitting pain in her forehead to go away. She tried to remember what happened last night, but it was not coming to her right now. She needed to rest. “Thank you . . . Victoria. I mean, I guess that could have gone pretty bad, right?”

Victoria gave a wry smile, “Don’t worry. Nothing did.”

* * *

 

The splitting pain vanished as the bullet passed through Kate’s skull. Everything vanished. She was just falling down, down, and she was dead. Her hand lay in front of her helplessly, in her futile attempt to save a drug dealer she didn’t even know. Blood seeped from the hole in her skull, in her brain.

Kate Marsh heard crying behind her, though, somehow. She turned, and what she saw horrified her. Bound, weeping in the corner where a white space met a black outline, she saw herself, stripped of her overcoat, her eyes blank and unseeing. At least, they were, until they saw Kate Marsh.

The Kate in the corner’s words came like an inhale, like the first breath of a drowning person, “Are you real?” There was such disbelief and shock in them that this question staggered her a little. She was real, wasn’t she? But if she was real . . . why could she see herself at her feet, having just been brained by a bullet? How could she see herself, her hands and wrists duct taped together, sitting in the corner of the photography studio?

“I don’t know,” Kate replied honestly, and took a step away from her body towards the other Kate.  
The other Kate rocked herself quietly for a moment while they sat in silence. “Me neither,” she whispered, finally.

Kate sat down, perhaps two paces away from the Kate in the Corner. “How did you get here?” she asked her, somehow not consumed by the fear she had been experiencing just a moment ago, that this other Kate still seemed consumed by.  
Kate in the corner shook her head. “He brought me here. He brought me here and he hurt me and he blamed me. He abandoned me. I thought he cared about me.” Kate’s eyes were no longer staring at Kate herself anymore, and Kate turned her neck around, finally remembering who shot her. 

Jefferson was fishing a gun out of Frank’s coat and putting it into his own. Then, he removed a phone from his pocket, and turned the corner of the bunker.

Kate shook her head. “He’s a murderer,” she said, and this seemed to get other Kate’s attention back. This seemed to horrify her as, well, it should.  
“What? He . . . what? Why are you saying that?”

Kate breathed deeply, and then she crawled her way over to the bound Kate, and sat next to her, leaning up against the bright white wall of the photo studio. She pointed to her body a few paces away. “He shot me. He murdered me. Max . . . and Tori. They’ll kill him for it. They would have killed him anyway.”

That’s when it seemed to occur to Kate that something was wrong with this conversation. Not just the fact that she was talking to herself, but under what circumstances. “Kate? Kate, why are you here?”

Corner Kate continued to rock herself, but it was clear this seemed to agitate her. “I . . . I killed myself.”  
Something about that pierced Kate straight to her heart. She did not really associate this girl as herself, but nevertheless, it hurt her to hear that. She placed a hand on the girl’s bound hands. She wanted to say she was sorry, but she knew those words would mean nothing. So she took the time to find the right words, the sincere words.

“The world failed you,” Kate said, but the girl in the corner shook her head.

“No, no, I failed them. They hated me for it. They called me a slut, a whore, a Bathsheba. I sinned, and I lost my light. God rejected me, and the world knew it. They all knew it.”

Kate’s lips pursed. Who would reject her? What had she done? She had needed God through these past weeks, but never had she felt he left her of his own accord. She may have driven him away with poor choices, but he . . . he would never abandon her as long as she sought forgiveness, right?  
She did not see him, but even dead, she knew he was nearby.  
“Who knew? Who rejected you, Kate?”

Kate took several long, deep breaths. She began to say the names. “Victoria. My family. Mark Jefferson. Max. Stella. Alyssa. Anyone. Everyone. They left me, and they cursed me.”

It was . . . true that Stella had grown distant since she started dating Warren, but she would hardly call that a rejection. And Kate had no idea what had befallen Alyssa, as she had become withdrawn in the past few weeks. But Victoria? Max? They had been by her side like she did not know anyone could be. “But . . . Victoria and Max care about us. Why would they do that?”

Kate’s eyes seemed to slide in her skull, focusing on Kate out of the corner of her eye. “Max and Victoria . . . care? Max couldn’t even take my phone calls. She couldn’t even acknowledge when I told her about Nathan. And Victoria . . . Victoria was so much worse. She hated me. She must have hated me. She must have seen my hypocritical heart with those green eyes. She showed me to the world, she shouted my sins from the rooftops like an angel of judgement. She tormented me. She . . . she screamed as I died. I can hear her screaming, but I think it was my body she was afraid of. She certainly was not scared of my pain.”

Victoria? Victoria Chase? This girl had been tormented by Victoria Chase? The girl with bright red lipstick, whose lips were soft and warm against Kate’s forehead, whose nails cut little lines of relaxation in Kate’s body, whose kiss burned her mouth like the sun? The girl who vowed to protect her? And Max, Max who was always there for her, who told her she mattered, that she was special just for  _being_? These people had rejected her?

Kate wrapped her arms around this other Kate, and pulled her against her breast, supporting her on her knees. “Victoria . . . my Victoria. She’s fighting. She’s fighting right now because she wants to keep me safe. She thinks, she still thinks she can protect me. And Max . . . Max trusted me. She confronted Nathan for drugging me. She brought me as one of her friends to meet her oldest friend, Chloe. She promised to protect me.”

The Kate she held was crying. “Why did they all turn on me? Why did God leave me?”

Kate remembered what Victoria did for her. Something that made her feel safe again. She put her fingers in the other Kate’s hair, and began to pet her, scratch her, grooming her like a mother. And she held her close. “I don’t know what went differently. I don’t know what changed things. But God did not reject you. God still loves you. I’m sorry they didn’t make it in time for you. But I don’t think he’ll ever turn his back on us.”

The Kate in her arms was quiet for a long time again. She had been so afraid. She was still so afraid. She didn’t know how to leave this room - how to leave this fear behind. It was all she had anymore. “How can you be so sure?” she asked. Maybe, maybe . . . if she could just know. Maybe if she could have this resolve that this other Kate had, maybe . . . maybe.

Kate wrapped her hands around the bound wrists and hands of the Kate that leaned against her chest, and she said, quietly, quietly, “’Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.’”

Suddenly, the bindings on the other Kate disappeared, and her free limbs allowed her to turn towards the Kate that held her, and she wrapped her arms around her for comfort. “Help me, Kate,” she pleaded.

They hugged for a long moment, and when it was over, Kate grabbed Kate’s hands and held them between the two of them. “Pray with me, Kate. I am dead. I cannot help you. But pray with me.”

And they did. They closed their eyes and they prayed, each holding a rosary in their hands as they said the words aloud. They said them even as Victoria ran into the room, and crouched over Kate’s bleeding body.

When they finished, the two Kate’s stared at each other, still holding each other’s hands tightly. “Will you . . . will you come with me?” asked the Kate, previously in the corner.  
Kate shook her head. “I . . . I can’t.”  
The other Kate was distressed, still, still: “Why?” she asked. It sounded like pleading. She did not want Kate to be trapped in here, like she was.

Kate tried to find the words. She tried to find the words. And while she found the words, she saw as the needle entered Max’s neck, as she fell to the ground, as Victoria fell with a bullet in her stomach. The other Kate seemed to not notice these things, but, though they made Kate feel no fear, they filled her with something else. Something she could not describe.  
The words came, as if on their own, “’When justice is done, it brings joy to the righteous, but terror to the evildoers.’” 

She stood up, releasing her grasp of the other Kate. She shook her head, looking down at the pitiful girl below her. “Find your rest, Kate. I . . . I will be justice.”

And that girl vanished. She did not need this place anymore.

But here, here was where the people Kate must protect lay dying. And she would not let them.

And so, Kate woke up, her face submerged in a pool of her own blood.


	5. What If . . .

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this alternate epilogue, Max rejects full rewind power, and does not reset the week.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Directly in place of Polarized, Chapter 10: Metamorphosis

Tears welled up in Max’s eyes as she shook her head. She watched the other girl freeze, then her eyes fall to the ground, as if searching for the bullet that had just embedded itself in her stomach.

“I can’t. I can’t do it, Max.”

There was a pause, followed by a response quieter than a whisper, “Why?” The other girl gripped Max’s hands tightly, looked up, and asked again, _harder_ , “Why not?”

Even as she refused, Max could feel that power pulsating against her skin. She could feel it so close, and she wanted to take it. But she understood what taking these sorts of powers made you. They were always curses, weren’t they? They made you god. They made you inhuman.  
Fear and shame pushed Max to tears. “Because I’m not strong, Max. I survived. I did it. Victoria’s alive. Kate’s alive. _I’m_ alive. There’s no storm. You’re telling me you fucked everything up with time travel - and I should just . . . just,” but she couldn’t go on before breaking down, a sob writing in her chest and cutting her voice.

The other Max broke the contact of their hands, and the tingling waves died down. She wrapped her arms around her shoulders and pulled her close, so that Max could bury herself against her neck.

“Ssshh, it’s okay, I understand.” The other Max pet her hair softly.  
Max felt cruel, knowing the other world must have been awful, just like hers, but that she didn’t even have Kate and Victoria beside her. But she just couldn’t escape her fear.  
“He got us, Max. He shot Kate, he shot Victoria, he got me, he killed Frank. I can’t go back. I can’t do it again. I can’t risk them _again_. But I’m not strong enough to stop myself from trying.”

She could feel the other Max nodding against her. “I understand,” she said softly. “I don’t want to go back either. And you made it out with the people you love.”  
Max kept her eyes closed. “If I go back, I’ll be all alone.”  
Softly, above her ear, she heard, “Yeah.”

Max pulled herself away from the other her’s shoulder, taking a few deep breaths to steady her, like the ones that Victoria would do some days after classes. In for eight. Hold for six. Out for twelve.  
“I’m so sorry, Max.”

The other one shook her head, and raised a hand to Max’s cheek. Time pulsed under her fingertips. “Don’t be. We’ll keep our powers safe. Together, okay? - through the scrying mirrors, I guess.” She smiled gently, but Max could see how false it was. “You’ve got the people you love. Hold onto them, Max, ‘cause it can all disappear.”

Max nodded against her hand. “I will, I promise.”

“Shit, I think they’re talking about me.”

The two Maxes froze in place as a voice came from the end of the trail. The other Max looked to her counterpart to see if the voice she had heard was real, but as Max’s eyes slid over to find its source, she dropped her hand and turned around.

[“Chloe?!”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PRQPc-PK1gM) The Maxes asked in unison.

Pulling up to the fire pit came two mismatched friends: one tall, lanky, with her arms in a jean jacket and her hair in a beanie. The other, a golden blonde in a tank top and shorts, a flat dragon tattoo snaking up her leg.  
It took Max a second to recognize who the first girl was, to see her as her friend Chloe. But there she was.

“Boo-yah,” she replied, eyebrows quirking up expectantly. When she didn’t get a reaction from the duo, she turned to Rachel and added, “’Cause I’m like . . . you know.”  
Rachel only provided a perplexed expression in response. Chloe waved a hand in disappointment with a little ‘Bah’ added to show her disgust.

The Max in black took a second to think and then said, “She’s a ghost. Because she’s a scary punk ghost.”  
Chloe snapped her fingers into a finger gun, aiming it right at the other Max. “Boom! That one’s mine!” Then she reached for Rachel’s hand and began to drag her over to the two Maxes.

The other Max smiled, and this time it didn’t look fake.

Rachel waved as she and Chloe arrived right next to them. “Hey Max,” she addressed Max, and then, “Hey . . . Max.” Her look did not meet the level of enthusiasm that Chloe was setting a standard for - she seemed genuinely unnerved to see the Max in black.

“Hey,” Chloe said, eyes fixed on the other Max.  
“Hey you,” she replied softly.

Max hadn’t realized until she saw the two of them together how tall Chloe had gotten. It was hard to tell when most of her was under a blanket, but this Chloe was just like the image she had seen through her camera - a grinning punk - and, apparently, dead. Or as dead as Rachel herself was, at least.

Rachel’s eyes bounced between the two. “Hey, uh, Max, let’s give them a moment.”  
Seeing as the other Max’s eyes were watering up, a fresh dive into the emotion of a few seconds ago, Max nodded in agreement, and Rachel led her over near the edge of the peninsula. They sat down on the bench there and took a moment to look out over the water.

Neither was sure where to start. They just tried to keep their eyes off of the other two, although Rachel proved terrible at that, glancing over at them every few seconds.

“So. We made it. Town’s still here.” Rachel wouldn’t look at Max as she said any of it.  
“Yeah.” Max turned in her seat to look at Rachel’s profile, but Rachel still would not reply in kind. “I didn’t get to say earlier, but I’m sorry about Frank. I know you two were close.”

Rachel nodded, leaning forward to place her elbows on her legs, flicking her feather earring as she thought. “Yeah. I mean, that wasn’t . . . my Frank, exactly, but it’s still him, you know? It feels strange that he’s dead here, but alive somewhere else. I don’t know whether to grieve because he’s dead or be happy to see him. Everything feels strange like this,” she gestured through the air as she said this, still unable to explain her existence.

“Well, we’ll figure it out together.”  
Finally, Rachel turned her head towards Max, perplexed.  
Max shifted in her seat again to look at Rachel better, pulling a leg up onto the bench. “I’m a little hazy on the details, but we’re part of something now, aren’t we? You, me, Kate, Victoria, that other me? Maybe Chloe too.”

As she said this, her eyes slipped away from Rachel to the other two. Max stood near the edge of the cliff, a small smile on her face as she sat with her eyes closed in the golden sun. Chloe stood behind her with her arms wrapped over her shoulders, although it was a little unnerving to see that Chloe’s body seemed to just disappear in places their bodies connected. As solid as she looked, Chloe was just a phantom. Right now, though, she looked happy, her cheek against the top of Max’s head.  
A weird feeling of joy crept into Max’s heart as she saw that. She was in love. They both were. In another world, perhaps, but somewhere, Max had fallen in love with her childhood best friend. And something about that meant a lot to her. She had spent all week plagued with the guilt that she had left her friend alone to slowly die all these years, but somewhere, even in death, Max and Chloe were there for each other at the right time.

Rachel just watched Max’s face as these feelings and realizations washed over her - for a moment, Max even forgot that she was there. It wasn’t until Rachel spoke again, maybe half a minute later, that she remembered who she was talking to.

“Yeah. They are. We are. I think Arcadia Bay thought we were its dying breaths. There was so much urgency in me as soon as Nathan set me free. But now . . .” Finally, Rachel afforded herself a look over at Chloe and Max herself. “I think it can breathe.”

 

The other Max shivered, letting out a gasp audible even where Max and Rachel were sitting. Chloe’s eyes shot open, waiting for an explanation from Max.  
When none was forthcoming, Max stood up from the bench and called out, “Max? You okay?”

There was still no response. Instead, that Max just gazed out over the golden water for a long moment, while everyone else seemed to hold their breath, wondering what could have possibly gone wrong.

Finally, Chloe added something, “You all right, Super Max?”

Max said nothing. Instead, with a final, parting look like saying goodbye, she turned from the ocean, away from the vastness in front of her, and walked right through Chloe, starting down the path to the beach.

Max watched as Chloe’s hands slowly balled up into fists. Rachel’s body tensed, planting her feet on the ground, like she was getting ready to run. Her eyes were locked on Chloe. Max just sat in confusion, not fully understanding the actions of anyone else.

“DAMN IT!” Chloe yelled, sudden frustration seeming to tear through her. “FUCKING - SHIT.”

Rachel was up off the bench, making a brisk stride towards Chloe, who turned to her as she approached. They both ignored Max now.  
“She can’t see me. Again. Rache, I-”

“We will figure it out,” Rachel replied firmly before Chloe could even finish. She held her hands up, as if showing that she were unarmed. “We’re going to figure this whole thing out, I promise.”

Chloe nodded at Rachel’s attempts to soothe her, but she still reached up and curled a hand in her beanie and hair in frustration. They both kept talking, but much quieter, so that Max could not quite make out what they were saying.

It was such a shift from a minute ago. The setting awash in contentment one second, to this viscerally upsetting image of Chloe the next. She was nothing like the girl in the wheelchair, really, like Max’s own Chloe. That girl was so . . . gentle in both her ups and downs, raw just beneath a layer of sarcasm. But this girl, this Chloe - her raw was explosive. It was shocking, like the moments in which Victoria would become so physically overwhelmed in agitation that she’d lash out at something.

Max stood and approached the other two. “Her camera,” she said, the idea only just percolating as she said it.  
Chloe and Rachel turned to look at her.  
She continued, “If she’s like me, she can see things through her camera - see through time. Mirrors too. You might be able to talk to her by being on the other side.”

Both Chloe and Rachel’s eyes went wide, but their following reactions were very different. Rachel pointed a finger upward as if she’d just had a good idea and let out a quiet ‘oooooh’. Meanwhile, Chloe sputtered out, “S-seriously?”

Max nodded. “I don’t think I would have gotten through this week without her help, through mirrors and lenses. It’s worth a shot.”

Chloe swallowed slowly, thinking to herself. Rachel watched her face as she did, face pinched in thought.  
Then Chloe looked up and said, “Thank you,” followed quickly by, “Being a ghost is really weird.”

Rachel nodded, patting Chloe’s shoulder for a few seconds before saying quietly, “Hon, we’ve got to get going.”  
Chloe turned her head to look at her with a ‘Yeah’ in reply.

Rachel looked at Max again and clarified, “Sorry, Max, we’ve just got a funeral to go to. We’ll see you again, and we’ll work everything out.”

“Yeah . . . okay. See you guys.”

“Bye.”  
“See ya, Max.”

And they, too, made their way down the path. As the path sloped down and Max lost sight of the top of Chloe’s beanie, she thought she saw a blue butterfly ascend over the treeline, disappearing quickly from sight.

Max finally allowed herself a deep breath. Even though everything felt settled, she knew there was still so much to be done, so much to be understood. She realized she may never understand the full enormity of what happened here, or at Pan Estates, or of Arcadia Bay. But she was alive.

She took one final look back at the lighthouse looming over the glimmering ocean, its inescapable gaze leering down at her, until she was forced to look away, and begin the walk back to Principal Wells’s car.

 

* * *

 

 

Over the next few days, no one is sure what to print for the city paper’s front page. By the time they’ve gotten a good one written up, they hear of another impossible story, with so few hours before the next day’s paper needs to be ready.   
**SEAN AARON PRESCOTT DEAD IN HOME BUNKER** ,  
that’s sure to catch everyone’s attention. but it’s not quite as shocking as,  
**BLACKWELL TEACHER ARRESTED FOR KIDNAPPING, MURDER**  
And sure, yeah, you’ve got to print that stuff, but then there’s the creepypasta stuff already on.  
**DOZENS OF BLACKWELL STUDENTS WITH LOST MEMORY**  
Not to mention, well, the stuff that was dominating the news through the previous week.  
**STRANGE ANIMAL BEHAVIOR FOLLOWING SIGHTING OF TWO MOONS**

Normally, Blackwell students would expect a demi-weekly breakdown of local reported and unreported news in the _Blackwell Totem_ , but the campus remained in a shock, and Juliet could not free herself of it. One morning they all woke up at Pan Estates after a, frankly, very strange Vortex Club party, the next day they hear that Nathan has been arrested for the murder of his father. The next, their celebrity photography teacher has been arrested for kidnapping. Maybe, maybe another student would have been able to push through an issue of the Totem for the Monday issue after all of that, if only to calm everybody down.

But then it was Monday, and Rachel Amber’s body had been found in a junkyard on the edge of town. Class was cancelled. Dana and Courtney were asked to speak at an assembly for the students in lieu of class. Wells began by reassuring everyone that Blackwell was cooperating entirely with the police in their investigation of Mark Jefferson, and Max wondered why she still hadn’t heard anything about Frank.

Rachel arrived at the assembly just in time for Courtney to speak. Of course, they hadn’t been the slightest bit close, but as the two most brutally motivated academic and social girls of the school, and with Courtney being a party planner and Rachel a party-goer, they ran into each other on nearly a daily basis. Courtney didn’t have a single thing of substance to say about her, which made Rachel laugh out loud, turning only Max’s head in response, only just noticing her sitting on the corner of the bleachers. Rachel stopped, though, as she noticed several people beginning to cry - especially Justin, who ended up having to leave the room with Trevor before Courtney even finished speaking. Even if Rachel and Courtney hadn’t been close, they had been about as close as her and . . . most of the other people in their second year here, and that meant her words resonated with them.  
Why did these people feel entitled to their grief?, Rachel wondered. Had the Rachel of this world been a better friend to them? Or was this a display?

Victoria had managed to keep the feelings seeping into her from every other student at bay until Dana got up to speak. As soon as Dana took the microphone from Courtney and turned to the other students to speak, Victoria felt her throat constrict, her eyes feel hot from the tears that wanted to be let free.  
_Goddamnit, Dana_ , she thought. Dana’s feelings were always so easy to feel, Victoria had been actually willing to spend the weekend away from campus with her parents to avoid the saturation of confusion and pain that Dana had been in.

Dana broke down while she spoke. She had already been so low when the news hit that Rachel sat in shock while she recounted their friendship. Dana had been her first friend after she moved here, dragging her to parties since day one, forcing her to watch every season of Gilmore Girls. Her first, slightly tipsy kiss with a girl, although Dana failed to bring up their awkward dating phase.  
By the time that Wells went back out onto the gym floor to comfort Dana and take the microphone from her, Rachel noticed that she was crying, too. She wanted to slip into Max’s skin and go comfort her, cry together, but as she glanced over at Max, she saw her arms wrapped around Victoria, who was honest-to-goodness sobbing into her tiny girlfriend.

 _Oh_ , Rachel thought. And for the first time since she had returned to Arcadia Bay, she let herself grieve, too.

 

* * *

 

 

It was Tuesday evening when Rachel walked through Max’s door. Literally, just walked through it, not even bothering to knock. The fact that this might be rude didn’t occur to her until she was already face-first into the wood, but she figured the weirdest thing that might happen is that she could run into Max changing or something.

Instead, she just walked in to see a small, neatly dressed girl with her hair up in a bun sitting on Max’s sofa. The girl seemed to be staring out the window over a tall, wilting plant, and didn’t immediately notice Rachel’s entrance.  
“Oh, shit, sorry, I was just-” Rachel began to immediately apologize, figuring she had the wrong room.  
However, she cut off as the girl snapped back, hitting her head rather forcefully against the wall.

“Ohmygod, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

The girl rubbed the back of her head, grimacing and shutting her eyes in shame. “Yeah, yeah, I’m okay, I’m sorry, I just didn’t see you.” When she opened her eyes, she started to look Rachel up and down, clearly confused.

The realization dawned on Rachel then, and she took a step forward - “Hey! You can see me!” And then, “Oh, you’re Kate! Hey!” Rachel gave a rather vigorous wave as if they weren’t but a few steps apart, and promptly sat down on Max’s bed. “I didn’t recognize you with you looking all,” she made swirling motions at her own face, “like you weren’t just in a car accident.”

Kate reached up and touched her face, neatly touched up with makeup like any other day. "Oh,” she said, very confused, and then, “Oh! You’re Rachel!” And although that’s all she said, her eyes quite clearly screamed to Rachel, _You’re Rachel!, a dead person who is currently dead and I am currently seeing with my own two eye holes. I was away from Blackwell for three whole days and I forgot how weird my life was._

“Ye _p_ ,” Rachel said, with a little pop on the ‘p’. She flicked her earring, glancing all about the unfamiliar room. “That’s me.” Then, when her eyes settled back onto Kate, she added, “Hey, say: why can you see me? I thought that was a Max and Nathan thing.”

Clearly Kate was wondering the same thing, because she was quick to hypothesize, “Well, I’m kind of like a chosen one now, right? So we’re kind of like, soul sisters?”

Rachel shook her head, grabbing all of her hair just above her scalp and pulling it all back behind her shoulders. “No, I don’t think so. Victoria can’t see me, and she’s even got like, the weird eye stuff going on.” Rachel gestured somewhere out into the hallway, then pointed at her eyes in reference to Victoria.  
Kate was not sure she had ever seen anyone so avid a gesturer as this ghost.

Kate put on a pensive face for a second before offering, “Well, I mean, I died one time. And I think I met my ghost, so maybe. I just. Can?”  
She started to look around the room as Rachel began to reply, “Oh, well, I guess that might make sen-”

“Hey,” Kate cut in, then immediately paused, offering a hand for Rachel to continue.  
“Sense,” Rachel finished. She made little finger guns to direct the conversation back to Kate.

“So why am I not seeing a lot more ghosts? I figure lots of people have unresolved stuff to work out.” Kate’s eyes settled on Rachel, inquisitive yet perplexed.  
It took Rachel a few seconds to understand what she was asking, and when she did, peals of laughter broke from her until she ended up snorting, covering her mouth and nose with her hand to hold back the sound for a few seconds. When she could focus on Kate again, she noticed the girl wasn’t laughing with her at all, just staring with the same innocent confusion, though a bit of pink had entered her cheeks. For a brief moment, Rachel was reminded of a much younger Chloe, and her laughter died away, though her smile remained.

“I don’t think you’re a spirit whisperer, Katie. Everyone here with me was tied to Arcadia Bay, just like I was.” Rachel glanced at the door for a second, and, finding it undisturbed, leaned forward on the bed to speak more quietly. “That’s . . . actually what I came to talk to Max about.” She paused there, giving Kate a rather intense stare.

They spoke again at the same time,  
Kate said, “Oh, I was just waiting-”  
Rachel said, “Do you think you could help me - with something?”  
Kate replied, “Uh, with what?”

Rachel rose from the bed and quickly settled onto the sofa beside Kate, who backed up to give Rachel a little more room. She took a few seconds to think, and started slowly.  
“So . . . good news. I found Frank yesterday. Like, his ghost.”

Kate blinked, still confused. “Oh?” she asked. After a second, she added, “Oh!” as she seemed to recall who that was. And then, immediately, “Oh,” flatly. “Well, that’s good,” she finally followed-up, remembering that this was ‘good news’.  
Kate tucked some of the loose strands of her hair behind her ear, turning further on the sofa. “How can I help?”

Rachel mirrored Kate’s sitting posture, but crept a little more forward on the couch. She leaned forward even further as she started talking, “So, um.” A few seconds of pause. “In my world, Chloe never knew about my thing with Frank. Like, at all. And I totally broke things off with him like a year ago. But here, that, uh, that doesn’t seem to be the case.”  
She chewed on her upper lip in thought, replaying the intense awkwardness that had set in as Frank embraced her. If Chloe hadn’t been weirded out at their hug, she certainly was at their kiss, even if Rachel’s eyes were wide open and shocked at the time.

“Uh huh . . .” Kate encouraged, clearly expecting more. Rachel seemed to need leading questions, though, so she continued, “Were you and Chloe together? Why can’t you just say, ‘sorry buddy, wrong Rachel’?”

Rachel sighed deeply. “Well, I mean. It’s hard. All the right words used to just come to me, you know, and now I’ve actually got to figure it all out. Plus, it’s nice! He’s here too. I don’t know how, exactly, but he’s here and he clearly loves me.”  
Rachel knew she was terrible at framing the problem, but Kate kept helping her along. “So, what about Chloe?”

Rachel started to tap her fingers on the couch, though Kate didn’t seem to notice her twitching. “Well. She’s and I were never really together, sure, and we were with other people, but we also definitely had an unspoken thing.”  
Kate raised her eyebrows expectantly. “Like a gay thing?”

Rachel nodded vigorously. “Yeah, no, yeah, definitely. There was always this energy between us, basically since we met. And even though I started closing off a little after I got my power, it definitely didn’t seem that way. Sometimes I’d try and shut my power off and have boundaries with her, but it always ended up being easier to just let it take control, keep her happy. And I think that escalated things.”  
Rachel made the same upper-lip-biting expression as memories so clearly played through her mind. Writing Chloe songs. Moments of honesty and kindness and consoling. For Chloe, they must be precious moments in their relationship, but for Rachel, they were the moments she was furthest away.

Kate didn’t speak up in response, for which Rachel was grateful, because once her memories made it to the present, she had more to say.  
“To make things a little more complicated, Chloe’s totally fucking in love with her best friend from when she was like, twelve. The other Max . . . who I guess you’ve never seen or met.” She sighed again, overwhelmed by how complicated her life was now.

Rachel put her head in her hands and said honestly, “I just figure I’m going to be dead for the rest of my life, y’know?, so I really don’t want to piss everyone off; I just want to chill with the people I love and be a little ghost gang, y’know?”

“So,” Kate began, “You love Frank and Chloe, and Chloe and Frank love you, but Chloe also loves another Max. Plus, due to some supernatural powers that you inherited and parallel dimensions, there are some complicated elements to these relationships that are basically misunderstandings? And you’re kind of bad at talking to people?”

Rachel glanced upward as she thought. “Yeah, basically,” she said, figuring that was a pretty good summary.

“Uh.” Kate fidgeted with her hands for a second. “Well, have you considered polyamory?”  
Rachel’s lips pursed in confusion, a sort of frown creeping up onto her face. “What’s that mean?”

Suddenly Kate’s voice adopted a very flat, almost teacher-like tone, “It’s where you’re in a relationship with multiple people at the same time, but like everyone is consenting to it, not like in a sneaky way.” Kate pulled her legs up onto the sofa and finally seemed to match Rachel’s animation, leaning forward as she spoke quickly, “I’ve been reading a lot about it lately, and basically, you can just be like: ‘Hey! Chloe! I really like you and I’d like to give us a shot. But I also really love Frank, and I want to be with both of you.’ And then you do the same thing with Frank and everyone’s cool with each other.”

It took Rachel a few seconds to process what she had just been told. “Wait, that’s a _thing_!?” A million thoughts just crashed through her mind, many hopeful, a few doubtful, and all incredibly overwhelmed in an instant. The only words that came out, though, were, “Like, really?”

Kate nodded. “Yeah, really! There’s so many amazing stories about trios and group marriages online and they’re just really beautiful. I don’t know if that suits everyone in your situation, but it’s definitely possible.”

Rachel sat back slowly, reclining into the corner of the armless sofa. “Wow,” she uttered with wonder. “Polyamory. Huh.” Then, her eyes slid back to Kate. “Why have you been reading so much about it, exactly?”

They both jumped as the door handle to the room turned, and Kate had to turn around to look as Max paused in her doorway, clearly surprised to find the two girls waiting in her room.

Rachel watched as color immediately flooded Kate’s cheeks before Max got a single word in greeting out.

“Hey Kate,” Max said, then, “And Rachel. What’s up?” She sloughed off her courier bag and leaned it against her little entrance hallway.

“Oh, nothing,” Rachel replied evasively, and quickly added, “I was just visiting with Kate.” After a second of pause in which everyone looked around at each other, Rachel continued, “Buuuut I’m going now!”  
She leaned forward on the sofa one last time to whisper into Kate’s ear,  _‘Thank you so much’_ , then tried her best to plant a phantom kiss on the girl’s blushing cheeks before getting up and rushing out of the room.

Even when she had phased right through the door, Rachel could still hear clearly from inside:  
“Well, looks like you guys hit it off. I didn’t know you could see her?”  
“Oh, yeah, I can. And she’s cool!”  
“Well, welcome back, Kate.”  
“It’s good to be back, Max.”

Rachel did not think she would ever find a room filled with more gay energy than her hideaway with Chloe. Max’s dorm room might have them beat, though.

 

* * *

 

 

It was Thursday when Kristine returned to Arcadia Bay, having had little more than the news to go on following the phone call that had brought her home. Her father was dead and her brother charged with his murder. As astronomical as his bail might have been, Kristine found herself with plenty more than that at her disposal soon after she arrived. She did not even ask Nathan anything about what had happened, did not ask him if he had done it. She asked him how he had been treated in jail, asked him if he’d been able to stay on his medication while he was in there.

The day after she returned, she was flooded with the need to plan a funeral, meet with the board of directors for the Prescott foundation, meet repeatedly with a team of lawyers regarding a) the property damage to Pan Estates; b) the murder charges brought against her brother, c) the presence of an underground bunker filled with evidence that her father may have been involved with a kidnapping psychopath underneath a family barn she had never even _seen_ before and d) attempt to facilitate the investigation of the Pan Estates property after several dozen Blackwell students ended up there.

During all of this, she started to lean on the secretary for Pan Estates, a woman named Joyce Price whom she’d never met. While she was not the most qualified professional working with her, she was perhaps the only local that didn’t seem ready to spit at Kristine’s shoes since she returned. In fact, it was days before Kristine even learned that Joyce herself was overwhelmingly swamped after her child (she always said _child_ , for some reason) had been discharged from the hospital after a sudden, impossible recovery that sounded more like a Biblical tale than anything. It was Wednesday before they sat down and discussed anything but Kristine’s mind-boggling set of dilemmas upon returning home, chatting casually over Wendy’s meals.

Upon hearing about the massive bill that had accumulated for the Price’s over the past week, Kristine set down her frosty. “I’ll help you,” she said suddenly.  
  
Joyce looked at her weirdly, “Uh, what now?” she asked.  
“Your child’s medical bills. I’ll give you the money - tomorrow, if I can.”

Joyce chuckled nervously. “Well, that’s a kind offer, but completely unnecessary. We’ll manage, like we always do.”

Kristine shook her head. “No, I’m serious. I have, honestly, only money. I’m running on fumes everywhere else, but my family is apparently filled with some fucking monetary wizards because I am loaded in assets and cash.”

Joyce’s voice turned stern, almost motherly in its dissatisfaction. “You don’t even know me. That’s _your_ money.”

Kristine reached into her pocket and retrieved an old phone - a Blackberry - and began to take notes into it at a blazing speed. “True, which is why I’m comfortable spending it. You just got some of the best news of probably your life - I’m not going to let bills knock my employee’s family down when they’re just standing up. No pun intended.”

Joyce sat in shocked silence. It was long enough for Kristine to sense her opening and follow up.  
“Your kid’s going to need physical therapy, right? I needed it after an accident when I was a teenager - I can get them to see you guys. By next week, if your _child_ ’s going to be up for it.”

Joyce had spent enough time with Mr. Prescott to recognize that the people of this family always got their way. Normally, that filled her with a sense of dread and disgust. Right now, though, although she was frustrated, there was a sense of awe in it, too.

“Thank you, Ms. Prescott. I suppose that’s the kindest thing anyone’s ever done for me, or my family.”

Kristine could barely meet such thankful eyes. They made her incredibly uncomfortable. “Look,” she said, slightly defensive. “We all want to be able to sleep at night with what we’ve done. My dad dumped cash into an art school, maybe that made him feel better about fucking everyone and everything over. I’m not a creep, so sometimes it takes me a few extra thousand to keep from having bags under my eyes. Just think of it as mutually beneficial.”

Joyce laughed for a second before forcing herself to hold it back. She didn’t think she’d ever heard anyone but Chloe talk about Mr. Prescott that way, and she was just going off of Joyce’s complaints.  
“Well, thank you all the same.”  
“Mm, yeah.”

 

* * *

 

 

It was Wednesday afternoon when Victoria thought to text Kate.

 

> **Victoria:** Hey, Kate, what are you doing rn?
> 
> **Kate:** I’m punching the beach.
> 
> **Victoria:** You’re... what?  
>  **Victoria:** Why are you punching the beach?  
>  **Victoria:** What did it ever do to you?
> 
> **Kate:** I’m punching the sand on the beach.  
>  **Kate:** What’re you up to? Out of class?
> 
> **Victoria:** Well, I figured that part.  
>  **Victoria:** And yeah, I’m out. Can I come see you?
> 
> **Kate:** Yes :)
> 
> **Victoria:** I’ll be there soon

 

When Victoria actually reached the beach, she quickly scoured it for a sign of Kate. It was rarely a busy place, especially late in October, and that would have made it easy to locate Kate by itself. However, it became extraordinarily simple when Victoria noticed a girl in a heavy sweater, hair up, and in fact punching the sand as if she were boxing.

Kate did not notice her until she was close enough to talk. Victoria pulled down her sunglasses just far enough to peer at Kate over them.  
“So, I really hoped you were not a complete weirdo and were kidding about the punching the beach thing. But it looks like I’ve clearly made a mistake - I’ve got to go right now,” and she turned as if to leave.

“Oh no you don’t;” Kate scrambled to her feet and dashed after Victoria, wrapping her arms around her to keep her from fleeing the scene. Victoria squealed, totally surprised as Kate dragged her back a step, and actually giggled a little.  
After a second like that, though, Kate hesitated and asked against Victoria’s back, “Oh, um, are we on hugging terms?”

Victoria was amazed at the question. “Shit, yes we are on hugging terms - if you’d let me turn around.”  
Kate loosened her grip immediately, and Victoria spun around, Kate’s playfulness seeping into her as she wrapped her arms around her waist, pulling her just an inch off the ground in the process. Now it was Kate’s turn to squeal for a second before Victoria put her back down, maintaining the hug for a few more seconds before Victoria put her at arm’s length.

“So, care to tell me why you were brutalizing the fucking sand? Has it not suffered enough to achieve this form?”  
Kate shook her head. “I hate sand. It’s coarse and irritating - and it gets everywhere.”

Victoria grimaced dramatically at the line. “That’s disgusting,” she replied. “But, like, really.”

Kate took a step back so that she could more effectively hold up her hands for Victoria to see. They looked pretty much the same as usual, if a lot more dry-looking. “I’m building up my bone density,” she said, as if that should immediately clarify things.

Victoria quickly realized she wouldn’t be able to control the banter after that, so she settled for a “What?”  
Kate snickered and turned her hands around for a few seconds to display them before dropping them to her side. “I’m using the impact with the sand to create micro-fractures in my fingers and wrist. When my body repairs itself, which happens at an exponential rate with repeated injury, my bones grow denser and therefore, harder. I’ve been learning about it on Youtube.”

“So wait.” Victoria crossed her arms over her chest and kept her quizzical expression. “You’re telling me you got pulled out of school, and now you’re using the extra time to become, what, a super hero?”

Kate looked down, abashed, pushing some of her loose hair back. “Well, I mean, we took care of the storm, didn’t we?” She pointed out over the ocean, “but I’ve still got these powers. I’m not getting shot at anymore, sure, but I mean . . . I should figure out something to do with them.”

Victoria shifted her weight uncomfortably, and she too looked down, so neither of them would be compelled to make eye contact. “How’ve you been feeling? Since then, I mean?”

Kate bit the inside of her lip in thought for a few seconds. “It’s been . . . I don’t know. It doesn’t feel like any of it really happened. I just . . .” Kate trailed off, even though there was clearly more to the thought.

“You what?” Victoria asked, her voice overly soft.

Kate sighed slowly, stalling for time. “I don’t know. I’ve just been having a lot of trouble sleeping. It’s the dark, you know? I still feel kinda powerless in it. I have dreams about darkness where I can’t move, can’t really think because it’s a dream.” She paused for a second. “And, yeah.” She finally looked back up at Victoria and added, “But, I mean, most of the time I’ve been okay. I’ve just been reading a lot and working out this whole Independent Studies thing, and-”

Kate cut off as Victoria took her hand and finally looked up to meet her eyes, and they stood there for a second while Victoria tried to feel for both of them. Fear, loneliness, nervousness, and what Victoria had started to dub _care_. It was the feeling of responsibility and affection that constantly seemed to saturate Max, and here it was rubbing off on her, too.  
“Kate. He’s never getting out, I promise. Even if he hadn’t killed Rachel and Frank, those binders brought in the FBI; Jefferson’s involved in like half a dozen open missing person’s cases. The one thing that might have ever helped him out was the Prescotts and,” Victoria took a weirdly paced break, a sharp intake of breath, “Nathan’s going to testify against him. He’s fucked. I promise.”

Kate nodded, still chewing on the inside of her mouth. “What about us? I mean, our DNA and fingerprints must have been everywhere in the bunker, and in that truck. There was so much blood . . . why haven’t we been questioned again?”

Victoria shook her head. “I don’t know. I don’t even know what I’d say this time around - I can’t explain the footage of us without being 5150′d and-”  
Kate cut in loudly, “Wait, what? Footage?”

Victoria replied, “Yeah. The bunker had tapes of us. One of the officers told me and Nathan he had found it. I think he used to work for the Prescotts but . . . I don’t know what he did with it.” Victoria shrugged. 

Victoria could feel it as Kate’s panic set in, although she said nothing. It was just the cold that set into your body as the blood rushed to your core, leaving your fingers numb and your knees weak. She did not want it, for either of them.  
Victoria reached up with her free hand and placed it on Kate’s cheek. “Look, Kate, we’re going to be fine. Nobody’s connected us to Sean. We’ll be all right. I promise.”

Kate kept her eyes for a few more seconds, but then she took a step forward and wrapped her arms around Victoria’s body, leaning against her. Victoria put one arm around her and the other in her hair, scratching her scalp and petting her hair to soothe her.

After maybe a minute like that, Victoria spoke up again, Kate still against her chest. “So, you know, there was a point to this visit.”  
“Hmm?” Kate asked, a hum against Victoria’s collarbone. “And what was that?”

Victoria’s eyes started to dart around at the scenery - the cloudy October sky, the shimmering ocean, and, further in the distance, the looming lighthouse watching over them.  
Victoria swallowed before delving into her pre-planned, if meandering, speech. “So, I was thinking. Max got to go on a date with you weeks ago, and I heard that was actually really nice. Or Max just felt it - I can’t really remember. But either way, I felt a little cheated, and I was like, ‘hey, where’s my date with Kate?’” She paused to swallow again, and Kate froze before pulling back a little from Victoria to look up at her.  
  
“Sooo...?” Kate asked, as if confused, although Victoria could feel the spike in excitement. She understood, even if she wasn’t letting on.

“So, maybe, next Thursday, you and I could go to dinner or something?”

“Uhh,” Kate emitted, the gears slowly turning in Kate’s head.   
It would be so much easier to feel smugly satisfied with Kate’s outrageous nervousness if Victoria didn’t have to feel it herself - it made her just as nervous about asking as Kate did about hearing it.  
“As in, Halloween?” Kate finally asked.

“Uh huh,” Victoria replied, biting her lip in mirrored excitement as Kate began to catch on.

“Just dinner or-” Kate began.  
“And a Halloween party. With me. And Max.”  
Excitement, nervousness. Glee, confusion.

Kate’s voice turned very staccato as she responded, “Okay. Yes. But. How is there a party? I thought the Vortex Club got shut down like, immediately?”  
“Oh, it did,” Victoria admitted, finally loosening her grip on Kate entirely so she could use her hands as she talked, “but if you’ve got a school filled with rich kids and Dana Ward’s enthusiasm for ghosts compounded with a desperate need to have fun, you’re going to get a killer party. Just with way fewer drugs because, well, Nathan. And Rachel. And... yeah.”

Kate actually laughed a little at that, despite how depressing it was in context. “Well, okay, I can work with fewer drugs, promise. Uhh, do I need a costume?”

“Oh, hell yeah. I’ll pick you up at like five next Thursday?” Victoria raised up a pinkie between them.  
Kate nodded vigorously, dislodging all of the hair she carefully tucked behind her ears. “Yes, definitely.” She reached up and locked her pinkie with Victoria’s, and finally split into an ear-to-ear smile.

Victoria grinned in response. “It’s a date.” And she lifted their hands up, kissing her own thumb before letting their hands free to seal the pact.

In the same second, though, Victoria felt a sudden surge of feeling, alien and overwhelming, crash against her, and she staggered back, barely staying on her feet. She blinked, trying to clear the dark spots from her eyes as her vision returned to the beach and Kate.

“Victoria?” Kate’s voice sounded strangely far away. “Victoria?” That was better. “Are you okay?”

Victoria struggled to breathe through the constricting in her chest, and found her arm draped over Kate’s shoulders, feet too numb to keep upright on her own.  
“I gotta get out of here,” she said, breathing shallowly. “It’s the ocean again. I can’t.”

“Where’s your car?”  
Victoria gestured further down the beach, and Kate nodded, half-dragging Victoria away from the spot where she had been pounding the sand and up towards the road.

 

* * *

 

 

It was that same day that Max found herself sitting on the curb outside of the Price’s house, waiting for their van to turn the corner any second. It looked like Mid-October had no designs to be more pleasant than early October, because the temperature refused to drop from the low eighties. Max was incredibly grateful for all of the thin, long-sleeved sweaters that Victoria had insisted that she buy, if not so much for the style, for the protection from the sun. Sure, she might be so sweaty that her thighs would start chaffing in her jeans when she tried to walk around, but at least she’d walk away without any sun burns.

Max had discovered a pretty cool game to keep herself company while she waited. The residential road wasn’t far from a market, so cars were driving by all the time. As she listened to the music on her headphones, she snapped out the beat, causing little stutters in time where all of the cars and people walking by would slow for a second, then lurch forward. It felt like a surreal moment from one of Victoria’s artsy french films, and yet Max could create it at will.  
She wasn’t sure how to feel about it, or whether to tell anyone that she could rewind time. For now, though, she had determined to not use it - every time she did, she felt very uneasy about erasing everyone’s minds with a twist of her fingers. That was a god’s power, not a teenage girl’s. Maybe that’s how it should be.

Finally, their car appeared, and Max stood up, pulling out her earbuds and shutting off the music.  
“Hey you,” Max called as soon as Chloe was unloaded from the van and into their electric wheel chair. The new one had a small electric control for Chloe’s hands, and yet Chloe was, so far, less adept with it than their previous one.  
“Hey there superstar - haven’t been waiting long, have you?” Chloe pulled up onto the path just beyond the garage, and Max met them there, making their way to the door while William closed up the van.

Max shook her head. “No, not long.” After a brief second of resistance, Max reached down and put her hand in Chloe’s hair, messing it about relentlessly for a few seconds. “How was physical therapy?”  
“Uhh, really fucking hard, as it turns out. I may not be slowly drowning anymore but I sure as hell don’t have much in the way of muscle mass. Thanks.” Max opened the door and helped Chloe through the doorway.”

“Well, maybe not, but don’t they also treat like, coma patients? I think you’ve got a one-up on them.”  
“Pff,” Chloe replied simply. “Yeah, well, maybe - but this was session numero uno. I’ve still got miles to go before I sleep. Or, like don’t sleep at all because I’m such a parentally unsupervised party animal.”

“I heard that!” William called from just outside the house before closing the door behind him.

“Uh huh! And what’cha going to do? I can practically parkour my way outta here now.”

Max smiled for a second, glad for the optimism in Chloe’s banter. She wished she had Victoria’s eyes, to know if it was genuine, to understand the Chloe beneath the bullshit. But, for now, that wasn’t really available to her. Not yet.

Chloe spun their chair around in the living room before backing up into their room. Meanwhile, they asked, “So, what’s up for binge duty after _Avatar_? Got some cyberpunk on there or what?”  
Max shook her head, “No, no cyberpunk yet. We’re hitting all the genres. That means _Spice and Wolf_ next.”

Chloe gave a showily confused expression. “Uhh? And that’s which one?”  
“The mercantile romance one,” Max replied.

Chloe stuck out their tongue. “God. That sounds awful. All the boring parts of the medieval era. no bigass swords. Wait, are there bigass swords?”

Max grinned a little. “Nope, all regular sized swords. Mostly knives, really.”  
Chloe let out a whimper, which only made Max laugh.

“If you want big swords, though, maybe you should play d&d with my group this Saturday.” Max plopped down in one of the seats next to Chloe’s bed.

Chloe just shot an incredulous glance in response. “Uh, like, the roleplaying game? Like, with dice?”

“Yeah.”

“... how big are the swords?”

“Up to size Colossal.”

“Woah. That’s big.”

 

* * *

 

 

It was Saturday, October 26th, when Max, Victoria, and Nathan pulled up to Pan Estates. Seeing as Victoria’s car had been destroyed (and her parents none too happy with her), they all squeezed into Nathan’s one-row seater truck, which left Max uncomfortably pinned between the other two. She hoped, glancing into the rearview mirror, that she’d catch sight of the other Max doing the same thing, knowing that they were both on the right track.  
She did not see her. She had not seen her since the light house.

“If they halted construction, aren’t we going to be a little, you know, conspicuous?”  
Max had been expressing her doubts for the trip the whole way, and this only prompted an annoyed groan from Nathan. “Yes. We’re going to be totally noticeable to everyone living forty minutes outside of town at 2am. The owls are super suspicious. Try and act natural.”

Max had been thinking more along the lines of, well, the police. Although there were only two significant buildings from two weeks ago - Sean’s house, now burned down, and the building Kate and Max had been taken to - the whole property had been shut down and repeatedly swept for additional evidence. Nevertheless, as Nathan pulled up to what used to be his father’s house, there was still no sign of the police or FBI. Apparently, they slept, too.

“So, can we know what we’re here for now?” Victoria asked, unclipping her seatbelt just as Nathan did, hopping out when he didn’t immediately answer the question. As Max slowly scooted her way outside and Nathan headed for the bed of his truck. Victoria added, irate, “I mean, seriously? What do you get from - oh.”  
As Nathan pulled away a blue tarp from the back of the bed, Victoria noticed several racks of chemistry vials filled with a black fluid. The racks had been secured with rope to the sides of the truck, but Victoria was still amazed to discover that each one was intact. At a rough guess, there had to be close to one hundred vials of the stuff, each with thick disposable caps. Less conspicuously, a small plastic blue box sat next to the racks.

Victoria pointed at the stuff, expressionless. “Is this stuff I injected you with to-”  
“Yeah,” Nathan replied, hands in his jacket, just as Max pulled up alongside Victoria.

Now it was Max’s turn for a question, so she started simple: “What is this stuff?”  
Nathan, meanwhile, moved to the back of the truck to drop the rear wall before hopping up into the bed of the truck. However, he made no immediate motion to mess with any of the stuff he had removed, instead sitting on the edge of the bed and motioning for the other two to follow suit. Max and Victoria glanced at each other, then they climbed in and sat down across from Nathan too.

He took a long breath, hands still in his jacket pockets. “It’s, uh. It’s what gives my family our powers.” His face pinched, trying to think for the rest of the words. “And, basically, it’s magic. But like, chemistry magic, not like Hogwarts magic.”  
It was so weird to hear anyone say that, especially so deadpan. It was even weirder that it was believable.

Victoria spoke up in response, “So, like alchemy?”  
She was getting nothing from Nathan’s feelings. Considering how little Victoria could ever get out of Max, it was weird to be in the emotional void that she found herself in. It should have been comforting, perhaps, after all the distress her classmates were in, but it only made her feel lonely.

Nathan nodded slowly, taking a second to recall what that was. “Yeah, kinda, I guess. But in a much more pre-written-history Greek sort of way.”  
The other two stared at him, waiting for a direct answer.  
He sighed. “It’s blood magic.”

Victoria did not respond, but just sat still, unblinking.  
Max still needed one more step to get on the same page, though, and asked, “Like, literally blood?”

Nathan nodded without additional comment.

Max leaned forward, placing her elbows all the way down onto her legs and breathing into her hands. Victoria would reach out to scratch her back if her revulsion hadn’t rooted her in place.  
“Whose blood?” was Max’s next question.

Nathan gave a bit of a shrug, even though he was quick to answer, “Well, you guys.” When that didn’t quite make sense, he pulled a hand out of his jacket and waved his hand about as if he were making a _Princess Diaries_ wave. “A string of girls tracing somewhere before my family was ever here. Guardians, chosen ones, blessed maidens, something like that. To quote my great-great grandfather, a ‘supernatural matrilineage’.” He let out a bit of a laugh, but Max and Victoria waited for more of an explanation.

He cleared his throat, looking directly at the other two instead of his feet, “So, have either of you heard of the Hopi prophecy?”

Max shook her head, but that question seemed to break Victoria out of her temporary paralysis. She looked at Max, certain that they had discussed it before. Max just shrugged at the glance, though, so Victoria turned back to Nathan and said, “Yeah. I found a paraphrase from it in the Two Whales. Kate thought it was something apocalyptic. Why?”

Nathan reached inside of his jacket and pulled out a small journal from an interior pocket. Victoria was temporarily reminded of her envy of men’s jackets before Nathan opened it up and started talking again.  
“Well, I found a set of journals that my dad kept back at the house. Each one starts with ‘the signs’, so I googled them. The journals refer to the later signs all the time, but I couldn’t figure out why - the Hopi were never here. There’s no reason for my dad to care.”

Nathan took his hands out of his pockets to begin tapping on his own knuckles, exhaling slowly before moving on. “So, I stopped focusing on the signs, read what I could about the prophecies. And I realized that my dad mentioned some of those too, although not quite in the same words. Really, he focused on the idea that destroying ‘the heart’ of the land could destroy the whole thing. And I think he did it. I think he pulled it off.”

Victoria could barely understand what Nathan was saying as distinct phrases, nevermind a connected whole idea, but somehow, Max had a question at the ready.  
“So, Arcadia Bay has a heart? And your father destroyed it?” Max’s face pinched as she tried to sort through the details of everything, but she didn’t have the week of focus that Nathan had been afforded.  
  
Nathan nodded. “Yeah, I think so. My dad certainly did. Starting back, I don’t know, six years ago? my dad started to talk about ‘poisoning the heart.’ Honestly, considering how my dad actually talked, these journals read way too spooky witchcraft-y.” Nathan swallowed, looking down at the journal, even if he couldn’t see the words in the dark. “But, I talked to my sister about what properties my dad picked up five or six years ago, especially weird ones. And she looked and, well . . . voila.” Nathan gestured out with his hands.

Neither Max nor Victoria seemed to get what he was indicating.  
Nathan sighed with frustration. “Look, in the original Hopi stuff, it was land. I think this is it. Pan Estates. I think that’s why the local natives are so pissed about Pan Estates’ development. I mean, haven’t you read the paper in the past two years?”

There was a surprising moment of silence after that question.  
Then, Max said, “Well, I just moved here,” and Victoria said, “And I don’t read the paper.”

Nathan blinked a number of times that could only be interpreted as sarcastic. “God, okay. You guys could use a dad who complains about the paper every morning, I guess.”

Victoria’s turn for a question. “So, why do you think your dad succeeded? Like, sure, even if this is ‘the heart’ of Arcadia Bay and your dad fucked with it, what’s the point of no return? Construction here is halted, and without the storm wiping out the town, I can’t imagine this will be a popular place enough to move that it expands.”

Nathan shrugged. “That’s just it, though. The storm. I mean, you could say that the storm was Arcadia Bay’s last chance to hold on, but if that were true, I don’t think Arcadia Bay would still be there. I think the storm was here for revenge, and that’s why it just . . .” he waved his hand in the air again, as he always seemed to when referring to the ethereal, “stopped. I put a bullet in him, it doesn’t have a reason to live anymore.”

Victoria sighed, overwhelmed and way too deep into the hypothetical and mystical. “So, what are we doing here, Nathan?”

Nathan nodded, glad to be back on track, and dropped to a crouch inside the bed of the truck. He leaned forward, grabbing the blue plastic box next to Max’s leg and dragging it over to him before putting it in his lap. He popped it open, revealing a small set of syringes and several needles. Glass syringes, if Victoria had to guess from the faint glimmer of light on them, like the one she’d used with Nathan.

“My dad wouldn’t have just made a blind guess. There had to be something here that told him it was the heart of Arcadia Bay. So, Tori? I need you to stick me with one of these again, so I can look around. Know if I’m right. Know if we can still save Arcadia Bay or what.” He turned the box around and offered it over, a grim coffer.

Victoria accepted it gently, but Max asked, “Like, uh, with that stuff?” She asked, indicating to all of the vials. “Didn’t you say that’s blood? Couldn’t it kill you?”

Nathan waved off the concern, instead retrieving one of the vials from the racks and holding it while Victoria tried to prepare the syringe in the dark. “Nah, don’t even think it’s really blood anymore.”

Victoria noticed Max’s hand suddenly raised, and then she dropped it back to grasp Victoria’s wrist, preventing her from fitting the needle for a second. Victoria looked at her questioningly. “Be careful,” Max warned, voice suddenly filled with concern.

That only unnerved Victoria, but she tried to be more exact with the syringe until it was correctly set up. “This is a sketch as fuck plan, by the way.”

Nathan laughed, then leaned forward to hand Victoria the vial, noticed he hadn’t taken the cap off, removed it, and offered it forward again. “Good thing you didn’t hear all the plans before it, then.”

A few minutes later, as Nathan began to slip into unconsciousness on the bed of the truck, Max suddenly flinched, nearly falling off the edge of the truck. 

“Uh, you okay?” Victoria inquired.

Max took a second, swallowed, and then asked in response, “What year was Nathan born?”

“1995, why?”

Max just stared straight ahead at Nathan’s body, then her eyes slowly trailed to the end of the truck.   
“Well, that’s not the year of the rat,” she replied.

Victoria met Max’s eyes and felt her disquiet, but that did nothing to clarify things for her.   
“Let’s just . . . let’s just find a way to destroy the rest of this stuff, okay? Blood magic is always a bad idea.”

Max finally looked up at Victoria, and then over at all the racks of vials. “Yeah. Totally, let’s do it and get out of here. Nathan doesn’t need his body here.”

Victoria’s face pinched. “You sure about that?”

Max nodded, “Yep, I’m sure.”

 

* * *

 

 

It was February 14, 2014 when Max, Victoria, and Kate arrived at the front of the Price residence. Max knocked on the door while Victoria did her best to get herself and Kate posed so all three of them would be immediately visible once the door opened. Kate just kept on a smile like a picture was about to be taken while holding her hands behind her back, obscuring something held from view.

The door only opened a crack, in which William’s head appeared. Max waved, but didn’t say anything.  
“Oh wow, you all look great,” he commented, before his voice hushed down to a whisper. “Come in quietly - they’re in their room.”

Max and the other two nodded, and crept through the doorway one at a time. At least, they tried, but Victoria’s heels clacked along the hardwood floors, try as she might to avoid it. William went into the kitchen and retrieved his Polaroid camera while the girls lined up outside of Chloe’s door, even trying to breathe quietly to avoid giving themselves away.

‘On three,’ Max mouthed, and then began to raise her fingers.  
One.  
Two.  
Three.  
Inhale, and Max reached for the door handle, pushing it open.

“HAPPY VALENTINES DAY!” All three girls cried in unison.

They did not find what they had expected - Chloe reclined on their bed watching television, or reading from their Kindle. Instead, they found them sitting in their wheelchair at the back of their room next to their computer, facing right towards them three. Their face was completely neutral despite the trio’s attempt to startle them. They wore a sleek black, sleeveless dress, their studded wristband on, two false-sapphire earrings in their ears. A child’s party hat sat on their head. Beside them sat three heart-shaped balloons, and, pinched between their fingers, they held a party blower like a joint.

They blew, and the unenthusiastic celebratory sound anticlimaxed after their wave of greeting.

Kate was the first to laugh, but Chloe cracked a smile and started laughing immediately afterwards, and a second later Max and Victoria jumped in as well. Chloe had played them, after all their planning to stun them, but that only made this moment better.

Chloe brought the back of their hand up underneath their eye, as if they were about to cry. “Holy shit you guys, you look so beautiful. I’m gayer in a glance over here.”

Max looked at her companions briefly. Victoria in a red suit, the trousers abandoned for a matching skirt, her hair pushed back into a pompadour, heels leaving her absolutely towering over Max and Kate. Kate’s hair dropped into bright ringlets with a braided crown over her head. Max herself in a gray-black dress, her hair pulled back like the night of the End of the World party. She smiled sheepishly at them, reaching up and feeling the spiny hairs of her undercut before they all returned their glances to Chloe.

And then, Kate revealed the roses she had been hiding behind her back in one jerky gesture. “Happy Valentines, Chloe.”

Max could hear Chloe’s breath catch. The others must have done so too, because suddenly they all rushed in after each other, doing their best to surround Chloe and hug them.  
_Click_ went William’s Polaroid.

“You look so good how did you know we were coming-”  
“Here, Chloe, for you-”  
“Ya’ll, fuck, you’re too sweet-”  
“Oh, don’t tell them that, they’ve been excited for weeks-”

Kate crouched down as she dropped the roses in Chloe’s lap, Chloe’s arms far too busy hugging and touching everyone to take them themself. At the same time, she leaned forward and planted a kiss on Chloe’s cheek, leaving a predictable lipstick smear on her cheek.

As everyone pulled away to take seats in the room, Chloe’s massive grin sustained itself. Kate sat right next to Chloe, while Max and Victoria brought chairs from the other side of the room to form a little circle.

“Wait, Kate, kiss her again, I want to get a picture.” Max immediately began to fish into her bag for her camera, although Chloe groaned.  
“Are you going to be taking pictures the whole night? Can’t you like, chill on V-day?” Chloe put on their absolutely grumpiest expression to discourage their picture from being taken.

“Yep,” Max affirmed, lifting the camera to her eyes.  
Kate leaned forward and held a kiss against Chloe’s cheek again, whose face begrudgingly resumed smiling despite all contortions to prevent it.  
Max switched to the preview screen to show Victoria immediately, but Chloe had to interrupt.

“Well, if you’re going to take pictures, at least make them of good ones.”  
Max raised an eyebrow in confusion, but the explanation came quickly as Chloe jerked the wheels of her chair so she could turn, raising her hands up to Kate’s cheeks.

Max smiled, and watched through the viewfinder until Chloe and Kate kissed again, snapping as many pictures as she could for those few seconds.

“We are going to have,” everybody turned to look at Victoria as she started speaking, “the cutest Instagrams tonight. Even Dana and Trevor are going to be like: ‘sadface, but, yeah, they’re the cutest.’ Actually, we might be running into them later.”

Chloe’s head tilted in confusion. “Wait, what? Where are we going?”

Victoria held up a finger to indicate that she had the answer, smirking a little bit that Chloe hadn’t known their full plan. “Tonight at 8:00 we have a reservation downtown at Artisan. But first . . .” Victoria looked over at Max, indicating that it was time for the reveal.

Max smiled, stowing her camera, and retrieving a small blue cylinder from her bag, turning the label so that Chloe could read it.  
They leaned forward in their wheelchair, squinting to read the small text, but once they did, their eyes went wide with recognition.  
“Is that Manic Panic Bad Boy Blue?! HOLY SHIT! HOW DID YOU KNOW!?”

Max grinned, wagging a finger before stepping out of her chair and handing the container to Chloe. “A magician never reveals her secrets,” she replied sagely. And perhaps magicians don’t, but Chloe’s ghost was certainly willing.

Chloe’s arms flailed a little in distress. “Well, damn guys. I’m not sure my sharpie-personalized balloons can compete. What’s next, an orgy?”

“It better not be!” William called from somewhere in the kitchen. “But I do have champagne for you guys after tonight!”

Chloe wasn’t even sure what facial expression to make at this point, so they settled for a bug-eyed smile. “Well, best day ever, huh? Let’s . . . let’s do it! Did you bring bleach?”

 

* * *

 

 

It was June 26, 2015, and Max was staring at her Facebook feed on her laptop. _Overgefell v. Hodges_ was just concluded. Max scrolled through the walls of rainbow flags, of hashtags, of buildings lit up at night in radiant colors. But she came, finally, to a picture that made her pause, and call Victoria over to her.

There they were in shitty, camera phone resolution. Chloe’s arms wrapped around Kate’s waist, their lips pressed together as if they were alone, quiet, despite the flags around them. They stood on the steps of a DC building that Max could not immediately identify, surrounded by others  
_#lovewins_ read the description.   
_1 hour ago._

And that was finally it. That was Max’s breaking point. She brought her hand to her mouth as her eyes began to glass over, struggling to keep herself from crying like compressing heat, only making the need stronger.  
By the time that Victoria came into the bedroom, Max was already crying.

“What’s wr-” Victoria cut off as she came up behind Max and saw the picture. “ _Oh_ ,” she said with a softness that could almost be taken as reverence.

“I love them,” Max said, although her voice was little more than a whimper. “I love them so much.”

Victoria leaned down and wrapped her arms around Max’s body, not wanting to take her eyes away from the image just yet. “I know, sweetie, I know.” She pressed a kiss into Max’s hair, her neck.

Max could feel when Victoria’s phone began to vibrate, but they both ignored it, at least at first. When Max realized it was a call, though, she said, “C’mon, you should get that. It could be the gallery.”

Victoria deflated a little bit against her, clearly having been trying to resist checking. “Okay, but I’ll be super quick.”

Max nodded without looking up, instead going to her keyboard.

“Hello?” Victoria said.

> **Maxine (Max) Caulfield:** I love you guys.   
>  **Maxine (Max) Caulfield:** You’re so beautiful.  
>  **Maxine (Max) Caulfield:** #lovewins

There was a loud beep as Victoria pushed a button on her phone. “It’s Nathan,” she said, then lifted the receiver up to her ear.

“Yeah?”

“Oh. What was it about?”

“I . . . see. When?”

“Really? This year?”

“God dammit. Fuck.”

“Yeah, we’ll be there, we’ll make it.”

“Yeah, thanks Nate. You doing okay?”

“Oh, okay. All right. I’ll talk to you soon.”

“Bye.”

Max sat, watching the feelings flash across Victoria’s face. Surprise. Alarm. Frustration. Sadness. Not the things she hoped to be sharing with Victoria right now.

“What did he say?” Max asked.

Victoria shook his head. “We’ll talk about it later - it’s not urgent, I promise. I just don’t want to spoil the mood.”  
Victoria glanced at the laptop, and her expression softened. “Hey, come on, let’s facetime Kate and Chloe. I wanna see ‘em.”

Max wiped at her tear-stained face, nodding. “Yeah, let’s do it.”

Victoria smiled weakly, and sat down on the bed beside Max. Before Max could fish out her phone, Victoria slipped a finger underneath her chin and turned her face, and they kissed softly for a long moment.

“Who do you think’s going to propose first?” Victoria asked.  
Max’s eyelids remained heavy, their lips still close, Victoria’s hand on her neck. It took her a second to realize that Victoria wasn’t talking about them, but about Chloe and Kate.

“Uhh... bets on Kate.”  
“Mmhmm, Kate.”

And, as strange as the timing was, Victoria pushed Max’s laptop off of her lap and leaned her down, meeting her for a kiss with her hair in the way.

 

* * *

 

 

It was October 20, 2015 when Max, Victoria, Kate, and Chloe parked at the bottom of the beach trail. Hesitation filled the car once Victoria turned the car off, nobody quite looking at each other. It was time to decide who was going up to the light house.

Max sighed. “Well, I’m going.”  
Kate was quick to follow suit, “I want to say goodbye.”

Max turned a little to look at Victoria, who was staring at her hands on the steering wheel. “Vic?” she asked.  
Victoria shook her head. “Just . . . I don’t know. Just say ‘I’m sorry it turned out this way’ for me.”

Max nodded, and turned further to see Chloe in the back seat. “Che?” she asked.  
She, too, shook her head. “Nah. I mean, I’ve never even met them, can’t see them. It’s too weird and too big.”

“All right,” Max confirmed. “Kate, let’s do it.”  
They both exited on the passenger side, and Kate waved before closing her door. They threaded their fingers together and squeezed each other’s hand, although the dumb October heat quickly made it uncomfortable.

Soon, they reached the top of the path, and saw the three there. Chloe, Rachel, and Frank, somehow all managing to fit on the bench near the edge of the precipice. They could hear laughing from here - Rachel’s high peals, Chloe’s goofy chuckling.  
They were still pretty far back by the time Frank noticed them, and turned from his seat on the back of the bench to look at them.

“Well, holy shit, look who it is.”

Chloe and Rachel turned as well, and Max and Kate halted as the three ghosts looked them over.  
And then, Rachel broke into one of her blinding smiles. “Kate! Max! You made it!” And she stood up right inside of the bench so that she could start running towards them, golden hair almost sparkling in the afternoon light.

“How’d you guys know!?” Chloe called, striding after Rachel, who attempted a futile jumping double-hug right through Max and Chloe, a feeling of warmth sliding through them.

“We got some pretty reliable intel from a precog, actually,” Max replied.

Chloe screwed up her face in concentration as she reached up, placing a hand in Max’s hair, and proceeding to muss it up. Max grinned as the touch was material enough to leave her hair awry.   
“Looks like someone went and got kind of punk in Seattle, huh? The sidecut fucking rocks, dude.”  
Chloe offered her fist forward, and Max was pleased to find some resistance when she pounded it right back, although her hand ended up going through most of Chloe’s forearm.

Kate offered Chloe a shy, somewhat uncomfortable smile, but Chloe was quick to catch on.  
“Hey there Kay, good to see you. You and mini-me still . . .” Chloe’s finger wagged between the two of them, and Kate nodded in response.  
“Definitely,” she answered. “They’ve started their AA in Biology. They would have come but they can’t, you know, see you guys.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get that. Biology, huh . . .”  
Frank finally made his way over, having overheard that comment. “Really? I didn’t know you had it in you.”  
Chloe just rolled her eyes.

Rachel re-appeared, sticking her head with barely any room to spare between Max and Kate. She did her best to give them kisses on the cheek, although all that Max really got from it was the popping sound of her lips - she appreciated it anyway. Rachel stepped around Max and Kate this time, standing on Chloe’s other side.

Max scratched the back of her head, not sure how to ask her question without sounding insensitive. “So, um. How long do we have?”

Frank sort of hummed in thought before answering; “Hmm. Don’t know. We were just, ah,” he gestured back to the bench, “Waiting for the sunset, I guess.”

Chloe looked over at Rachel, then at Frank, thin lips pursing. Then, she shrugged, “Long enough to bullshit.”

Rachel nodded, “Oh, definitely time for that. In order of priorities, it’s bullshit, transcendental ecstasy of nature, heartfelt goodbyes,” she indicated a descending order with her hand, as if dropping from level to level.

Max sort of smirked, “Works for us.”

 

It was almost an hour later when the sun began to set over the glimmering plane of the ocean. They all grew quiet, cutting out the jokes and the ghost antics to sit and watch.

Then, too cheesily for even Max to hear with a straight face, Rachel began to recite a poem from memory.

 

> “Nature’s first green is gold  
>  Her hardest hue to hold.  
>  Her early leaf’s a flower;  
>  But only so an hour.  
>  Then leaf subsides to leaf.  
>  So Eden sank to grief,   
>  So dawn goes down to day.  
>  Nothing gold can stay.”

Max entirely expected Chloe, or someone to say something snarky, but as Rachel finished, she lifted her hand to her mouth as she began to cry.

“It’s here. It’ll be really soon.”

Max, who stood beside Chloe as she sat on the back of the bench, reached out her hand and offered it to Chloe. It took Chloe a second of focus, but she gently lowered her hand onto Max’s, and Max could feel the warm of her hand on hers. Then, down the line as Frank took Chloe’s other hand, Rachel took his, and Kate offered hers. With a small, knowing smile, Rachel placed her hand over Kate’s.

Max was not prepared for the feeling that struck her in the gut.  
“It’s been real-” she paused, swallowing and closing her eyes against the heat of her tears, “really great. I’m so proud to have been part of this with you guys. Guardians til the end and everything.”

Rachel nodded, and Frank closed his eyes, jaw clenched against crying, futile as it was. He didn’t want his last minutes to be crying.

“Yeah, Max,” Chloe replied, unsteadily. “Rachel. Frank, Kate. Shit, even Victoria. I didn’t mind a few more years.”

The well of guilt that sometimes opened up in Max when she remembered maybe, maybe she could have saved them.  
She wasn’t going to say that today. She wasn’t going to apologize. “I’ll never forget you guys.”

“Us neither,” Rachel replied, suddenly breathing shallowly. “Wherever we’re going, we’ll remember.”

“Yeah,” Chloe affirmed.  
“Yeah,” Max replied.  
“Yeah,” Kate pledged.

Everyone looked almost expectantly at Frank, who gave a weak smile. “Thanks, kid.”

Max squeezed Chloe’s hand as well as she could. “Goodbye, you guys.”

“Bye-” Chloe managed, and then those three were gone.

The wind picked up, blowing Max’s hair about as chaotically as Chloe’s hand. She and Kate stood apart from each other for a moment, sensing how the world was different. There was no tide of time in Max’s palm, nor the warmth of Chloe’s skin.  
The world was, perhaps, as it should be, but it felt a little emptier.

Kate crossed the distance between them, and took Max’s hand in Chloe’s place. “Let’s get back,” she said.

And the two began the trek back down the path.

 

**The end.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Consequences**  
>  \- Rachel remains dead  
> \- Chloe recovers  
> \- Frank dies  
> \- William lives  
> \- Max, Victoria, Kate, and Chloe begin dating, but separate when they move to different areas  
> \- Jefferson is apprehended  
> \- Blackwell Academy initially struggles, but continues on with support from Kristine Prescott  
> \- Arcadia Bay continues to expand, and its economy begins to recover  
> \- Nathan is sentenced to a 5 year term in an Oregon mental facility  
> \- Arcadia Bay spiritually dies  
> \- The line of Guardians is ended, and Max, Kate, and Victoria lose their powers  
> \- Kate and Chloe get married soon after Chloe gets her bachelor's  
> \- All four of them take an extended honeymoon afterwards, traveling with Max through Europe on a massive photography project  
> \- The origin and purpose of the black vials is discovered, and their contents destroyed  
> \- The 'Chrononaut' universe happens


End file.
